


The Advice of Lily Potter

by Luminous_Tea



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus needs to chill, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Bellatrix is a hoot, Competent classes, Competent teachers at Hogwarts, Dark!Hogwarts, Dumbledore and the Light are hiding in the USA, Family, Harry Is A Horcrux, Harry is a combo of a Hufflepuff and Slytherin - be very afraid, Horcruxes, Humor, Inner Circle Death Eater Regulus Black, M/M, Manipulative Dumbledore, Manipulative Voldemort, Mentor Voldemort, Mind Link, Muggleborns are adopted, No one is white/black but just complex characters, Occlumency, Or I try, Politics, Quidditch, Regulus Black Lives, Sane Voldemort (Harry Potter), Serious Plot - like good plot, Sirius Black Lives, Sirius has fun, Slow Burn, Slytherin Harry Potter, Smart Harry, Speaking of Voldemort Dumbles is also a manipulative asshole, Studying Harry, The Black family is goals, The Malfoys try hard, The new golden trio is Neville-Dora-Theo-Harry, Voldemort thinking he's playing Harry but just who is being played here?, You'd be surprised Voldemort does a good job, because they can, everyone is a good parent, loss of a friendship, this is very wholesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 58,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25077358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luminous_Tea/pseuds/Luminous_Tea
Summary: AU. Snape never informed Voldemort of the prophecy, and as a result the Dark Lord takes over Magical Britain. But prophecies aren't nullified just because the ones involved don't know about them...Or Harry is raised by Regulus and Sirius and is finally going to attend Hogwarts. What he doesn't understand is why people think the Dark Lord has an interest in him. And what exactly is he hiding in that third-floor corridor?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 186
Kudos: 819





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, welcome to the Advice of Lily Potter! 
> 
> Sane, intelligent Voldemort is my jam. Expect him to be smart and sane, but still a scary asshole. I don't know what made me start a HP/LV story from book 1, but let us watch Harry as an adorable eleven-year-old, as he slowly grows into the powerful wizard he will be one day.
> 
> This fic contains an ambitious plot spanning epic proportions so feedback in the early stages (lol which would be about now) is greatly appreciated.
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading!
> 
> P.S. This is a fic that was originally posted on fanfiction.net under my account Blown (I am heavily editing and rewriting what's posted on there vs here, so I would recommend not to read it on ff and just read it here. Thanks.)

**PROLOGUE**

**1980, Spinner's End**

"What should I do?" Severus Snape asked the wall for the umpteenth time. The words of a fresh prophecy still echoed eerily in his mind.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ..._

His first instinct was to go to the Dark Lord. It would prove his loyalty like to other. He would be honoured beyond his wildest dreams...

But something stopped him.

Because, foolishly, he had been counting the number of times Lily Evans (now Potter, curse his soul) had been in battles with the Death Eaters. He remembered, because each time, he would feel a thrill of fear that something would have happened to her. An Avada Kedavra could hit it's mark, or Bellatrix would land a crucio.

And the number of times that Lily survived the Dark's wrath just happened to total three.

A chair was blasted apart in his rage.

As he stared, unseeing at the wood splinters that covered his sitting room, Severus Snape came to a resolution.

He would have to make sure that Lily was not pregnant before he gave his report to the Dark Lord.

* * *

 **1981,** **Dark Army Base, All Hallow's Eve**

"Are you certain of this, Wormtail?" The Dark Lord hissed. His wand flicked at the quivering bundle of cloth in front of him.

"I-I saw them off myself, My Lord."

"You must be absolutely certain." Voldemort gave a chilling laugh. "We do not want a repeat of the Belgonia Incident, do we, my little worm?"

The small man at his feet shook harder, whimpering. "N-No, My Lord." Swallowing, "I am certain."

A silence descended the room.

Popping sounds suddenly split the air and two men in long black robes with expressionless white masks approached the pale, but still handsome, brunette and fell to their knees. The taller of the two spoke for them. "What are your orders, My Lord?"

The quivering man whimpered again, not knowing if he was going to die for giving his information. Voldemort let him, stretching the silence, enjoying his terror for a little longer. "Since our victory at the Ministry tonight, the Order has seen fit to try and escape Britain. We have the whereabouts and time of the first group's departure." He motioned for them to stand up. Wisely, Wormtail did not attempt to do the same. He seemed too relieved to bother.

"Who is in this group, My Lord?" said Malfoy's voice once standing.

"Remus Lupin, James Potter and Lily Potter. If that were true, I would go myself, but Wormtail here," he kicked loosely at the kneeling man to emphasize his point, "has not exactly proven his reliability."

"M-My Lord, I swear to you-"

"SILENCE." He paused to ensure obedience, "Wormtail, you will drop your occlumency barriers for me to acquire the address. I will apparate Lucius, you will do the same for Lestrange." _As if I would allow that idiot to apparate me anywhere._ "Tonight, we will make an example."

Lestrange and Lucius nodded, understanding. It was why he'd chosen these two at any rate. That and Lucius had the strongest offensive hexes he'd seen and Lestrange's shields could hold off seven order members at once.

The same could not be said of Wormtail. He looked up, a bit lost. "M-My Lord?"

"Get up." He hissed. He felt strong barriers drop and slid into the rat's mind. The memory of wishing James and Lily a safe trip with their little Harry jumped to the forefront of his mind. He felt a feral grin consume his face when he discovered the location.

Isolated and perfect.

"Tonight, we aim to kill."

* * *

**1981, Number 12 Grimmauld Place, All Hallow's Eve**

"Master Regulus!" A voice shrieked in delight. "Ist you come to visiting Kreacher?"

"Shh." Black hair was held back by a classic hair tie revealing stormy grey eyes. Regulus Black stepped out of the green flames of a large fireplace, brushing off the excess floo powder on his robes. He crouched down to look the joyous but lonely elf in the eye. "I need you to be quiet, but I also need you to do my a favour."

"Anything! Anything for Master Regulus!" The elf whispered feverently.

"I need you to find my Sirius Black, put three drops of this" He produced a glass phial with a clear liquid that glinted in the firelight, "in his drink without him noticing, and then report his location to me."

The elf started nodding, reaching for the vial, but then shaking violently and sobbing. "Bad master Sirius is the hhhhheir... Kreacher cannnnnnnnot... Kre-Kreacher wi-will..."

"It's not poison, calm down." Regulus spoke, very quickly. "There isn't much time. It's the only way to save his life."

"Good master is saving bad master?" The elf asked through it's sobs.

"Yes." He pulled out his wand. "I solemnly swear on my magic and blood that what I ask Kreacher to do today is only to save the life of Sirius Black." A flash of white light showed the making of an unbreakable vow.

"Good master is too kind!"

"Kreacher-"

"Kreacher is so happy serve good master!"

"Hurry." Regulus commanded.

The pop of apparition was heard and the elf was gone.

Regulus' face tightened as he waited by the hearth, watching the clock anxiously.

* * *

 **1981, Undisclosed Location** **, All Hallow's Eve**

They had taken every precaution. Left their house in the middle of the night (poor Harry was still asleep), drove for an hour before ditching the car and apparating 100km, took a detour in the woods, then apparated to their final destination. Only three other people knew of their destination: Dumbledore had planned it, Sirius lent them the car, and Peter had waved them off. Even so, Lupin and James always had their wands out.

Lily made sure to have one arm around Harry and another clutching her own wand. She was still feeling very, very nervous.

War made people paranoid.

Dumbledore had evacuated first of course, to set everything up. He was the one with the American contacts, and would also transfigure anything needed in case there wasn't enough room. With most of the Order leaving, his skills would be helpful.

They were almost at the clearing where the glass-bottle-portkey was waiting for them when a cold, high voice spoke out of the darkness. The forest was unnaturally quiet that night, and the drawl traveled easily. "Here to congratulate us on our successful Ministry takeover?"

Lily had a shield up in the blink of an eye. James and Lupin fired twin hexes off into the trees. His eyes met hers, echoing a sort of dread and surprise. A large jet of fire the height of a person shot towards them, none of them had ever seen magic like that, turning Lupin the kind, the considerate, into soft white powder. Just seconds later, a jet of green light hit the stunned James. His body hit the ground, eyes wide and lifeless.

"NO!" Lily screamed, and Harry's frightened wails joined hers. Four figures slowly made their way towards her, eyes bright with the intent to kill. "Please, not Harry." She cried, clutching the little bundle closer. A jet of red light shot out but she recognized the hex and soundlessly muttered the countercurse. Another purple jet flew after and her shield deflected it. "Please, have mercy!" she yelled, wand flashing with complicated charmwork. "He's only a baby!"

She recognized the shade of green light heading towards her, and summoned a flowerpot in front of her to block the killing curse. "I won't try to leave anymore." She tried. "The only reason we wanted to was to keep Harry safe. Please." She would gladly die without her pride if it meant that Harry would be safe. "Look, I'm stopping!" she shouted at the top of her lungs and flung her wand deep into the forest.

She held up a wandless shield just in case and silently started casting a few wards around the two of them, also just in case. To her surprise, the attack ceased.

"How very Gryffindor of you, Ms. Potter."

She had no reply because suddenly the forms of Lord Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy, Rodolphus Lestrange, and Peter Pettigrew emerged into the wand light.

Lily gasped at the last person. "You! Peter!" She fumbled with the words, her voice closing, "You- you're the ones responsible for their deaths! How could you?!"

"I did what I had to!" The stubby man trembled in fear, his face a parody of remorse. "It was let them die or die with them..."

"You disgust me." Lily spat. They had trusted him. Remus and James and Sirius, everyone who had fought for the Light and against pureblood supremacy. They would have willingly laid their lives down for him. In a strange turn of irony, it seemed like they had. "There is a special place in hell for treacherous cowards like you."

"As touching as this is," The dark lord cut in, "I grow weary of it." The wand arm of the tall brunnet with a handsome and alluring face, despite being somewhere in his sixties, rose towards her.

"Before you kill me, I have some advice." She stared at the still raised-wand arm, swallowing. "I am-was a sort of strategist for the Light. I-I you have won, I will give you the following as a parting gift, of sorts."

"You are most surprising, Mrs. Potter." Lucius said, something like curiosity in his tone. "One would have thought a gift to the Dark as the last thing you would do."

Lily was not a fool. The Dark were only humoring her now, secure in their victory in the Ministry. Secure in the fact that she was wandless and possibly the last remaining active Order member against them. Victory was already theirs, and so they had leisure to pursue an idle curiosity. Still, it was a chance. And Lily meant to take full advantage of it.

"This _is_ the last thing I will do." She said quietly.

The wand arm was lowered, but she knew the speed at which Voldemort could cast.

"You have won the war, but you have yet to win the people. I am referring, of course, to those of the Light, especially the purebloods, who form a visible minority in the Wizengamot. The main reason is because they believe you are evil incarnate."

"You laugh now," they were actually emotionless, "but as long as they believe that you exist to sow death and destruction, they will believe that submitting to your rule is not a viable option."

"My dear," The endearment grated on her nerves, she had the sudden urge to slap him. "If you are trying to persuade me to spare those who've killed my followers in the war, it is futile."

"No. What I suggest is to make an example of my family." Her eyes burned with a fiery passion. "Tell the public that we submitted to the Dark, we'd come to our senses, we learned the error of our ways. Tell the public how you could not spare us for our actions during the war, but you could spare our children, and family, and friends. Provided, of course, they did not have a direct hand in the war."

She found herself captivated by the Dark Lord's every move has he considered her.

"It is the restraint rather than the capitalization of power that garners respect, as any great leader should know."

Silence descended on the clearing in the murky woods like a chilling blanket. Lily could not read the Dark Lord's expression at all.

"Will you promise me to spare Harry?" She pressed.

"I believe death would be preferable to a childhood spent in an orphanage."

"I don't think that would be a problem." A mysterious voice said from somewhere behind their clearing. The dark lord hardly blinked, but Lucius had sent a mixture of curses and Lestrange had a strong shield before the words had entirely registered. The stranger knew the countercurse for each and merely responded with a casual "Lumos" revealing the face of a young man that could have been Sirius' twin-except for the brown eyes and more wry and cultured frame. He bowed graciously to the Dark Lord.

"Regulus." The Dark Lord said. "I take it from your presence here tonight that your interrogation of the Black heir has gone well?"

"Quite. Sirius seemed to come to his senses when he realized that the Ministry had fallen." He smiled charmingly. "My brother welcomed me with open arms. He willingly disclosed the location of the portkey to me-which is why My Lord is here, I understand?"

Voldemort liked Regulus. He was young and handy with a wand, but more importantly, anyone else would have turned that into flattery, complimenting him on arriving first or some such nonsense. He always believed he was above such meaningless trifles, he was greater than anyone to have the right to judge, and if someone _actually_ found some of his worthwhile achievements, he'd probably have to kill them.

Lucius gave the younger wizard a nod, Lestrange dropped the shield.

"The backing of the Black family is indeed good news." Voldemort said lightly.

Regulus' lip twitched. "I am not so hasty to trust my brother's good intentions. However, when I overheard the last part of the confrontation, I must admit an idea popped into my mind."

Lily felt the light brush of legimency on her mind. Noticing it was Regulus, and the brush was more of a question than an attack, she slowly let her first barriers drop.

 _Sirius did not betray you. We came to offer protection. But we were too late, it seems._ The thought came into her mind, in Regulus' voice. She shot a look to see if Voldemort noticed. She shook her head slightly, not sure how the back and forth thing worked. _Just save Harry. Just save Harry._ She chanted in her head.

"Oh?" The Dark Lord said, eyes still focusing on Regulus.

"If My Lord is willing to spare the boy, I will ask Sirius to raise him." He slowly walked forward until he was beside and behind the dark lord.

"It is a good idea, My Lord." Lily said quickly. "One, it will be a way to test Sirius' loyalty. Two, it will further show My Lord's mercy in sparing a child. Three, as children of the Light are adopted into Houses of the Dark, the will have the same ideals and yet have their previous House's power."

Lily stared down at her little Harry with an ache in her heart. He was just so small, barely the length of her forearm. Looking at her with such wide, innocent eyes.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the dark wand arm raise itself for the third and final time that night.

"Avada Kedavra."

She tried to imprint the image of her baby into her mind as the clearing was lit up by green light.

"Accio baby."

She had just enough time to have relief wash over her.

The green light lit up the soft features of Lily Potter as she watched her baby disappear into the shadows.

But, as her child flew through the air, he reached out as if curious of the green light. He just wanted to know how a bright light like that felt.

And just as suddenly the relief dissolved into panic. Lily threw herself forward.

Some invisible wards she had been working on ran through the air. The green jet impacted, almost seemed like it was absorbed, then shattered into multiple faucets. Screams and shouts rang out.

Rays rebounded in all directions, like a green halo around the boy.

It was a captivating sight, eerie in its deathly beauty.

The survivors of that night had the image ingrained in their minds, even as they followed orders to never speak of it. If asked, they could say three absolutely true things: Voldemort did not die that night. Lily Potter was killed by the Dark Lord. And Harry Potter was spared.

It was almost a week later when Severus Snape found out.

So he went to see the boy invisibly, because he had to.

Afterwards, Snape locked himself in his sitting room and wept; not only because Harry Potter-Black had the same eyes as his Lily, but a lightning-shaped scar on his right palm. And he was the only person who, save one, who knew why.

He didn't know at the time, but he actually found out pretty fast, considering.

It was a lot earlier than when Albus Dumbledore would discover that the first part of the prophecy had been fulfilled.


	2. The Blacks

**July 30th 1991, Number 12 Grimmauld Place**

"Regulus?" Harry called softly, opening the dark wooden door cautiously. He tread lightly then stood on his tip toes to reach the top of the bedside table. The room was brightly lit with lamps, a cheery green colour décor, with a large four poster bed in the center. Clean and perfectly organized, uncle Regulus' room was always a direct contrast of his Godfather Sirius'.

Pulling out the top drawer, Harry realized too late that there was an alarm spell in the vicinity, and spun around to face a man in long, black robes. A wand was pointed at Harry before he could even blink. Instead of cursing him to oblivion, the handsome man rolled his eyes once he saw who it was.

"Harry." The deep, cultured voice said with a hint of amusement. Before Harry could think of an excuse, he was lifted into a hug. "What, exactly, are you doing in my rooms?"

Time to misdirect. "I missed you, Uncle Regulus."

Brown eyes danced as he met slightly mischievous green ones. "I missed you too, Harry." They grew slightly more serious. "But it's not why you made sure that Kreacher was busy making dinner before coming up here."

Harry mumbled something in Regulus' robes, embarrassed. His messy black hair was the same as James and his eyes just like Lily's, but the sharper, aristocratic facial structure and proud nose was evidence of the adoption ritual. Genetically, Harry was a Black.

"Chin up. What have I told you about mumbling?" Said Regulus, carrying the child down the staircase lined with beheaded house elves.

"Not to." Harry said clearly. He winced at his overcompensation. That was something else Regulus had taught him in their private lessons.

"I wanted to see if I could find my birthday presents." Harry confessed sheepishly. "Sirius has only been teasing me about them for _weeks_. And…" He didn't want to say it, but he knew how Regulus would figure out sooner or later that he purposefully withheld information, and that would be even worse than if Harry just told him the worst part now… "I bet him that I could get in without you noticing."

Regulus didn't even bother pointing out the absurdity of that choice. He raised his eyebrows and said dryly, "Indeed." managing to convey both perfect understanding and amusement and reprimanding him of the stupidity. Harry wondered how his uncle did it sometimes. _Never bet Sirius_ was another lesson Harry should have heeded.

"How was the delegation?" Harry asked, remembering why Regulus was working such long hours.

"The same. Lord Voldemort did all the... negotiations." He held back a yawn. "I just stood there as his third in command and tried to look menacing."

"Did you see Lucius?"

"Yes, but Draco is sick with his inoculations and can't come tomorrow." The conversation ended when they entered the bright kitchen.

Keacher was happily humming to himself as he worked, splendid aromas wafting over to where Regulus had finally set Harry down.

"That smells amazing, Kreacher." Harry squeaked as he walked towards the brightly lit, green granite and darkwood kitchen. His head just reached above the countertop, and he squinted a glance at the food.

The little elf turned and smiled warmly at his little charge. "Only the best food for our favourite Master Harry! Tonight is Master Harry's favourite, since he is turning eleven tomorrow!" He snuck closer and said in a whisper that still traveled the entire room, "Kreacher has put the best sugar into Master Harry's birthday cake! New sugar! From Bulgaria, you knows!" The elf winked at the secret that they shared. "Don't tell Master Sirius, he likes to keep it for his coffee. But little Master Harry needs his sugar much more than the fully-grown Master Sirius, Kreacher is thinking!"

Regulus' lips twitched again. "Kreacher."

Kreacher turned from Harry dramatically to sweep into a deep bow. "Master Regulus, how may Kretcher be of service."

"The food indeed smells delicious. You have overdone yourself, old friend."

Tears of joy appeared in his eyes at the endearment. "Master calls me friend! Kreacher can never repay the kindness of Master Regulus!"

"Would you happen to know where that unruly brother of mine has gone to?" He asked gently.

Kreacher's face closed off slightly at the mention of that brother. "Kreacher has not seen Master Sirius since lunch. Kreaher does not care much anyway, as long as Master Harry and Master Regulus," again he gave a deep bow, "can enjoy the feast."

"I would be insulted," came a booming voice from the doorway, "but it's just the blasted elf showing favouritism again." Another young man, in his mid-thirties, waltzed into the room like he owned it. He was tall, well built like his brother, but had broader more handsome features while Regulus was more refined and cultured. "Happy Early Birthday, Harry." He added, ruffling the boy's hair.

Regulus frowned, as they each took a seat around the round table. "What is this I hear about you betting again?"

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "I wasn't aware that you were my mother."

Harry sighed inwardly at the tone. It meant that a small rebuke was going to turn into anther full fledged argument.

"No, but if you wished to get into my rooms, there are more effective and humane ways of trespassing than getting an innocent child to do your dirty work."

Sirius' jaw dropped. Anger quickly clouded his face and it shut back with a snap. "How dare you! I would n _ever_ willingly put Harry in danger. " He glared for a moment longer, stormy grey eyes flashing, "You cold bastard."

"Stop!" Harry shouted, putting both hands up. Then in his best "mediating" tone, his tutor always taught, "Sirius, Regulus didn't mean to insult your ability or your obvious affection for me. Regulus, Sirius was just playing a prank and probably didn't mean for me to actually go do it. Will you please stop shouting?"

The brothers glared at each other hotly.

"Mutt." Shot out Regulus, but the tone was no longer biting.

"Mother." Sirius shot back in the same tone.

Thankfully an owl decided to interrupt before it could get ridiculous.

Regulus picked up the letter and blinked. "It's for you." He said to Harry.

The envelope was simple and white, with a small blot of red wax in the center. In spidery green ink was written the address:

_Mr. H. Potter-Black_

_The Starry Bedroom_

_Number 12 Grimmauld Place_

_London, England_

"Who'd you think it's from?" asked Sirius, as he craned his neck to read it right-side up.

"Don't know. But the wards wouldn't have let it pass if it was unsafe."

The three stared at it a bit longer.

"Hand it over." Harry finally declared. He tore the letter apart and three pieces of paper fell out.

He blinked. Regulus and Sirius each snatched a piece of paper.

He took a little moment to thank heavens that they didn't grab the same one. Little miracles like that made it almost possible for the two Black brothers to live under the same house.

"It's your Hogwarts letter." Said Sirius, voice a little higher than usual. "I wasn't aware that they still did this."

Regulus glared. "The Dark Lord has tried to change as little during his reign. Only corrupt or inefficient practices were stopped."

Sirius opened his mouth hotly—but Harry interrupted. "So, what does this mean?"

"Well," Regulus finally said, since Sirius was still fuming, "you're going to Hogwarts."

Harry frowned. He chose his words carefully. "I thought Hogwarts only admitted purebloods."

"Only those who have a letter of recommendation from the head of a pureblood family may attend Hogwarts. There wouldn't be enough students otherwise. Some pureblood families have heirs that are half-blood. They want their heirs to have the best education possible, so half-bloods get accepted too."

"Oh." Harry said articulately. "So, er, my letter of-"

"I wrote it." Regulus said. He shot a look at Sirius that Harry couldn't decipher, "We both think of you as our son, so I decided to make it official by naming you the heir."

Harry's jaw dropped.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," said Sirius. When Harry threw himself at Regulus, he laughed. "We were going to tell you tomorrow, for your birthday. But yeah, we're making you the Black family heir. Not that you don't have enough prestige already, being the Potter heir and all, but being a Black has to have some benefits."

Harry uttered a rather embarrassing squeal and then launched himself into Sirius' arms. "Thank you." He mumbled into his robes.

Harry worked hard to keep his tears in. He felt so touched. It wasn't that Regulus and Sirius didn't show their affection. But after all his lessons on the Wizarding world's politics and pureblood rules, he knew the importance and trust of this. They were not just saying they cared for Harry—there was a magical transfer of power when you are made heir. It meant that they trusted him to carry the Black name. He made a silent promise to himself that he wouldn't disappoint them.

Then he realized, his eyes widening. "That's why the letter was addressed to Harry Potter-Black, not Harry Potter." His blush deepened as his new father and dad smiled.

A small pop, and everything from mashed potatoes to apple pie appeared in front of them. "Perfect timing as always, Kreacher." Regulus commented quietly.

"I can't wait 'till I go to Hogwarts," Harry declared, moving away from the familiar black robes and blinking rapidly. He ducked his head down to pile his plate with potatoes, his ears a bright pink.

Sirius ruffled his hair kindly. "I would encourage you to keep up the tradition of pranking, but…" He shot a look at his frowning brother, "Being under the eye of Voldemort and stuff, I guess you can take it easy. At least until third-year."

"So you _can_ compromise." Regulus said his voice lighter, "and you had me thinking that any sense of self-preservation was knocked out of you since our rather abysmal childhood."

Sirius glared. "It was only abysmal because of you." He turned conspiratorially to Harry. "The things your uncle Regulus got up to when he was young…" He winked at his godson.

When they'd finished eating, Regulus said, "We'll have to get you supplies at Diagon Alley soon."

"Huh." Harry's was spinning with the possibilities of his new revelations. Grimmauld Place had its share of secrets and adventures, but according to Draco, Hogwarts was a magical castle. He would miss his godfather and uncle, but his eyes widened as he thought of all the possibilities for fun there. "Can we go tomorrow? To, uh, Diagon Alley, I mean."

"During your birthday?" Sirius said bewilderingly.

Harry turned on an impish smile. "So, you know, if I see something I really like…"

Both brothers laughed at his expression.

"Tomorrow it is." Regulus decided.


	3. Diagon Alley

Harry cast wide eyes on everything they passed. Diagon Alley was always bustling with activity. Though the same shops were there, it seemed like everything they sold was vanished and replaced every time they came. Regulus gave his hand a warning squeeze too not tug, but Harry couldn't help wanting to take everything in. Sirius walked easily beside them, throwing Harry amused glances.

"It's the new Nimbus Two-Thousand!" Harry saw a red-head boy squeal to his group of friends, his nose pressed against the window display.

As if reading his thoughts, Regulus said in that dry tone of his, "First Years are not allowed broomsticks." Harry almost stuck his tongue out. He would have if it was just Siriuus taking him on this trip. He looked hopefully at his Godfather. But for once, Sirius seemed to think that following the rules—at least until third year, wink—was a good idea.

"Look! Rememberalls!" Another child was ogling a pyramid of small glass balls with a sign that read: 'Forgetting Something? Now You'll Know!'

Regulus led him away from the crowds of children, all seeming to have come to buy school supplies. Harry noticed that people gave them a wide berth, and there was much staring at Regulus—either venomously or with respect. Sirius also drew some glances, must most people seemed to like to pretend that he didn't exist.

"We're going to Gringotts first," Regulus said to Harry, ignoring the attention. Thankfully, no one paid Harry any mind. Harry breathed in the apothecary's interesting smells and the noise of cramped animals in the menagerie as they made their way to Gringotts. They walked up the steps of the largest castle he'd ever seen. The wizarding bank was imposingly majestic. It had walls of the finest white marble with small bronze guarded doors and stood taller than all the other shops combined.

They entered into the large hall to the squeaking of many instruments happily working away. Some counted galleons, others weighed precious stones, and one seemed to measure the value of magical pets. A purple boa constructor wound himself tightly around a lever refusing to let go. Two wizards with turbans were arguing over the exact amount of unicorn horn to trade.

Regulus stepped up to the closest open teller. Harry stared as the goblin beside him ran his claws methodically over a machine that weighed rubies the size of his fist.

"I wish to make a withdrawal."

The goblin blinked hooded eyes at him. "Your key?" The moment he spoke an enchantment blocked out the sound of the room and kept their conversation from being overheard.

Regulus muttered something under his breath and flicked his want before he reached into his robes and pulled a large silver key. It was the size of Harry's forearm and had the black family crest engraved on the edges. Sirius put a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder as the Goblin looked at each of them suspiciously.

The teller inspected the key carefully. Then he ran his nose across the key professionally and sniffed a few times over the metal. Seeming satisfied, he shouted, "Griphook!"

A younger goblin appeared, stepping out from behind the counter. "Yes?"

"Please escort these two-" He broke off mid-sentence as he spotted Harry. "—three to the Black family vault." 

They followed the goblin behind and down stone steps before getting on a small cart. "Hang on!" Griphood shouted above some roar that was echoing in the tunnels. With a lurch, the cart was off on its own accord, accelerating wildly. Roughly hewn stone of the earth sped past them on both sides. "The Black vault is one of the deepest!" He explained.

Harry sat on Regulus' lap and hung on for dear life. He thought he saw a dragon, roaring in rage as five goblins advanced towards it, and was so distracted he didn't realize they were heading for a waterfall until he felt himself getting soaked. "Thief's downfall." Regulus said. "It has an enchantment to dispose of all glamouring magics."

They finally screeched to a half in front of a large vault door. Shakily, Harry descended onto the small platform with Regulus. Harry watched as Griphook stuck his key inside and ran a claw in an intricate gesture over the door. "If anyone other than a Gringotts goblin did that, they'd be sucked in through the cracks," Griphook shared, with a gleam in his eye.

Harry suppressed a shudder. The vault opened with a click and his mouth dropped open. The Black vault was the size of a ballroom. It had everything valuable from piles of galleons to mysterious tables draped in black velvet, from portraits to golden chalices brimming with pearl necklaces, and bookshelves more than seven times Harry's height.

"Woah." He gasped. Regulus' lip twitched and led him inside. He looked at Sirius, who seemed content to wait on the platform outside chatting with the goblin. Regulus efficiently took out a moleskin pouch and started putting golden coins inside.

"This vault contains stuff centuries of Blacks thought was important enough to hide." He gestured at something under a large black sheet that was giving off a creepy aura. "Most of the stuff is dark and against all international law. But it's safe in Gringotts."

"It's so big." Harry said, getting over his shock. "Dark stuff is against the law? You use tons of dark stuff for your work."

Regulus' lip twitched. "I admit, it's one of the perks of serving the Dark Lord." At Harry's questioning glance, he elaborated. "The modified laws of wizarding Britain permits Ministry officials the use of dark artifacts in their line of work. But you must promise me something, Harry."

He looked up from examining everything and saw that Regulus was completely serious. "What?"

"Promise that you will not seek out dark artifacts, and if you ever have the fortune to have one, only use it if there is no other way. Promise this until you are thirty, at least."

He raised a brow quizzically.

"Dark artifacts give power that is very addicting. And it only gets more powerful the more you use it. It is too easy to get dependent on them. And once this dependence has occurred, it is almost impossible to break. Do you understand?"

Harry slowly nodded. A look of dawning awe in his eyes. "It's completely designed to make you reliant. The more you use it the better it works, so if you consider things from a time by time point of view, it's always more advantageous to use the artifact. However, as you use it more, the weaker your own magic will be, so you'll become even more reliant."

"And if something were to happen to it, your enemies investigate for example, you would be easily killed. And the artefact would happily continue existing with a new master."

"Woah," said Harry. "Dark artifacts have an ingenious method of survival."

"Indeed. It is especially easy for young wizards and witches to fall under its thrall, because it will make the greatest difference. However, they will suffer the most because their own magical core will develop at a much slower rate. Proper development of your magical core will more than make up for the minimal increase in energy using a dark artifact will give you when you are young. Will you promise me, Harry?"

"Yes." He said without hesitation. No matter how much power any object could give him, he would not make the mistake of becoming reliant upon it. "I promise."

Regulus nodded with a small smile. "Griphook! We're done here."

They left the same way they'd come and soon found themselves on the brightly lit main road of Diagon Alley once more. Harry clutched Sirius in one hand and Regulus in the other, swinging himself between them. Sirius was just smiling and Regulus looked like he was wavering between protesting this un-pureblood display or just smiling as well.

"Your choice—wand first or last?"

Harry thought for a bit. "Last."

He looked up to see Regulus' reaction. His face was completely devoid of emotion, as usual, but an eyebrow raised. "What are you thinking?" Harry asked as they walked down the street.

He went quiet as a pair of Aurors in black robes and the snakey skull insignia made their rounds past them, acknowledging Regulus with a nod and completely ignoring Sirius. He felt his Godfather stiffen. The entire street got quieter for a moment, but it passed quickly.

The barest twitch that meant Regulus was smiling. "It will be interesting to see whether you get sorted into Gryffindor or Slytherin."

"Slytherin, of course!" Harry said, keeping his tone even. "I love you, Sirius, but if I had to live in a house with fifty of you in various ages, I'd go bonkers."

Regulus' eyes laughed at that and Sirius mock pouted but they said no more.

They acquired all the first year's required reading and Regulus let him buy an extra book about interesting potions that did all sorts of practical things like treat small rashes or remove dandruff with a drop and even counteract most poisons. At the last, Sirius just said, "Or you could just shove a bezoar down their throat."

Harry giggled.

When they got three scoops of each potion ingredient instead of the usual one, ("You can never have too many potion supplies" Regulus said) Harry also asked for a couple of bezoars.

Harry happily bought everything on the list, taking in the interactions between people around them, as they were mostly ignored. Crystal phials, pewter cauldrons ("More stable.") and star charts were all bought, shrunk, and put in Regulus' pocket before they made their way to Madame Malkins. Sirius was led into a backroom to be fitted for his formal robes which needed to be in-season.

Regulus watched from the wall as Harry was assaulted by measuring tape at the front of the shop. The happy chatter in the room died when a commotion sounded outside. Suddenly, everyone felt themselves go cold, terror and painful memories came to the forefront.

"What's happening?" A wizard that was new to diagon alley cried.

A witch drew out her wand and growled. "Dementors. They're doing their rounds." She whispered an incantation and a silver mist grew to circle her. All around them, everyone did the same. Adults cast it on children who could not. 

"Harry, stay here," Regulus said. "Expecto patromist." A silver mist shot out of his wand and circled around Harry, hugging him. The cold faded away as he basked in the comforting embrace. "It's a weak dementor shield. It should keep the worst feelings away." Harry watched, wide eyed, through the window of the shop. Regulus stepped outside and began casting more patromists as some people were too slow. 

Two tall dark figures in robes of deepest black glided down the street. The sky darkened against them and what remained of the happy youngsters running around buying things were small groups of shaking children. The golden 'dementor lines' shone, still in power, making sure that they could only glide down a small strip of land in the center of the road. The two dementors glided peacefully between the lines down the center of the street, respecting their barrier, happily drinking in the fear of the street, but making no moves to do anything worse. Regulus glanced around with sharp eyes.

A furious Lucius Malfoy came out of the next shop. "What is this commotion? They're behind the line and just going through the regular patrol." His distain was clear in his next piece of practical advice. "As you've done for the last ten years since their implementation, merely cast a patromist and stand still for a few moments while they pass."

"Lord Malfoy, what marvellous advice," a sycophant wizard came out of the shop behind him. "Truly, Lord Malfoy-"

"Lucius." Regulus cut through. He spoke quietly but his voice carried in the silence. He watched with frown as the dementors passed, "Don't dementors usually travel in threes?"

Their eyes met and both of their wands moved in the normal large arc of a pattern for a particular detection spell. Lucius' spell was done a second before Regulus'. As Regulus' face paled, Lucius mouthed, "Harry?"

And Regulus turned in horror towards the clothes shop. Harry had not stayed inside the shop but had wandered out into the street. A tear streaked Harry was unconscious in the grip of a dementor. Bony hands came up to take off its hood. Everyone else in the shop was cowering in fear or in their own hysterical fear-induced worlds.

"Expecto Patronum!" Regulus shouted. A silver panther, sleek and deadly, shot out of his wand and cantered into the wayward dementor at a fierce speed. The dementor screamed, a screeching sound that held all the terror of a city of people. "Force him back behind the line." He growled, anger so consuming that the terror didn't even make him flinch. The panther attacked with a ferocity and viciousness that had the dementor streaming out of the walls of the building in strands and only reforming back behind the line. The other two forms glanced back at their comrade but didn't stop. His patronus circled the wayward dementor until they were out of his sight.

A pop! at his side made his wand move of its own accord, only to point at a smirking Lucius. That man, Regulus thought angrily, - it was supposed to be illegal to apparate in Diagon Alley. The large density of people made falling on top of someone likely. It looked like Malfoy’s sycophant was considering whether he dared to walk across the street to them, and risk moving through the lines.

Lucius had a smirk in place as he regarded Regulus.

"Mind sharing the joke?" Regulus asked as he moved to go to Harry. "And to think I'd feared that your long acquaintance with dementors had sucked any humour possible out of your countenance."

"If anyone else said that to me, they'd be in Azkaban," Lucius replied. Regulus stayed silent as he first checked Harry's breathing and pulse, then cast a diagnostic spell on him. He quickly healed a bruise or two. "Though," Lucius continued, and this time his voice had a tinge of amusement, "You might still end up there for breaking the treaty and casting a patronus."

"He crossed the restriction line.” Regulus countered. “The mist shield was easily brushed aside; there was no other way to save his life. Kretcher, some chocolate." The next second, a bar bigger than his head appeared in his hand. He rolled his eyes at over exuberant house elves while casting "Enervate" on Harry.

"The penalty for casting a patronus charm is a sentence to Azkaban." Lucius said, still amused.

Regulus didn't reply. Harry had woken from the enervate and began blinking. "Regulus?" he croaked. Regulus continued to feel the boy, checking his pulse, casting other diagnostic charms. Harry's eyes widened suddenly. "Lord Malfoy!"

Lucius put a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "You've been attacked by a dementor. No doubt you know of their effect." Harry merely blinked at him. "Each some chocolate." Harry stared with frightened eyes at the chocolate, then blinked. Mechanically, he took a few bites. Slowly the cold eased out of his body, filled with some tingling.

Lucius stood up, but Regulus remained kneeling beside Harry.

"You would have done the same in my place." Regulus said quietly.

Lucius cast some privacy charms. "Perhaps." But they both knew he agreed. Draco meant everything to the blonde. "I know dementors from working with them. They are greedy, independent creatures. Impose restriction, it is acceptable. But take away their prey, they'll hold a grudge for centuries and wait for the moment to pounce. I took the thing years, but it eventually found Salzar Slytherin in his old age and consumed his soul. They never forget their prey."

"So Harry is in danger."

"You must hunt down that dementor and kill it." Lucius said bluntly, as if he wasn't suggesting something _more_ illegal than what just happened. "Dementors are solitary creatures. They do not care if one of them dies."

"I'll move to get that permission tonight. It broke the treaty, after all." Regulus said sadly. "If I survive the interrogation."

A hand was on his shoulder. "I will stand by you for this. We need to make it clear that pureblood heirs are off limits."

Regulus looked into grey eyes. He nodded again. "We'll need to go into the office to orchestrate this and to smooth over the other political repercussions." His political mind started whirling at a thousand miles per hour.

"Regulus?" Asked Harry shakily. "What's happening?" The privacy barrier allowed them to hear everything outside, but not the other way around.

He undid Lucius' powerful charms. "I cast an illegal spell in order to get the dementor away from you. Lucius and I need to go to the office to smooth things over." He put a hand on Harry's sweaty, pale forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better now. Chocolate really helps." Regulus stood up slowly, still watching Harry. Other people in the store were slowly getting back up, but they gave the two men in black robes a large berth.

"I'm sorry I won't be with you for your birthday. Would you still like to finish shopping?"

Harry looked up hopefully. "Could I? I promise not to get in trouble. It's just a wand after this."

"Sirius can take you. Kretcher!" called Regulus. The house elf appeared looking worried. "Please stay here and look after Harry and Sirius, until one of them sends you away."

"You'll be okay?" Asked Harry shyly. Regulus merely sent him a small smile. It was gone in a second, Regulus style, but it made him feel better. "Be careful." He said, awkwardly patting his uncle's hand.

The next second, Lucius had a hand on his shoulder and the two of them were gone.

The next second, a frantic Sirius came out of the back room. "Harry!" he cried when he saw him.

Tripping a bit, Harry threw himself into Sirius' arms. Shockingly, he found himself in tears again. "Dementor… I remembered… terrible things…"

Sirius' strong arms clutched him tight. "Harry, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"Didn't think… I remembered… the night… James and Lily died…"

Sirius blanched. Slowly though, with soft murmurs or nonsense, Harry began to feel better.

Harry stepped back from Sirius only to find himself bombarded with a pile of chocolate that appeared with a pop. He gave a small smile. "Thanks Kretcher!" Harry sniffed a bit more and grinned at Sirius sheepishly. "Sorry about that." He only just realized that Sirius had a privacy ward around them.

Sirius shook his head. "I don't know what the ministry was thinking, letting dementors walk down crowded streets with children." He turned his serious eyes on Harry, "It just turns out that you have worse memories than most."

Harry's eyes widened as he realized how hopeless his godfather sounded. Like dementors patrolling diagon alley would never change. Well he would change that, Harry decided. He would work hard and get a ministry position just like his uncle and learn the game of politics until he could guarantee that what happened to him would never happen to a child again.

Sirius looked at him, getting back to being playful.

"So, I guess it's my turn to take you shopping, yes?"

A soft bell chimed as they entered the dingy wand store. Harry sneezed as they passed some boxes flying through the air.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped. "Nasty things, dementors, aren't they?"

An old man was standing behind the counter, gazing steadily at Harry, his eyes glowing like moons in the darkness of the shop. The dusty tranquility seemed to be filled with its own type of magic.

"Er."

"Mr. Potter, I wondered when I would be seeing you. It seems like only yesterday when your mother was here, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

"Potter-Black." Harry corrected quietly.

"Indeed." The man said, "I see from the darker hair and sharper features that the adoption ritual has gone well."

He moved his eyes away from him to gaze at Sirius.

"Sirius Black. Your friend, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. Little more power and excellent for transfiguration."

The eyes focused back on Sirius and Harry squirmed, the eyes getting a little creepy.

"And yes, Sirius Black, blackthorn wand. Twelve and a Half inches. Slightly yielding, was it?"

It seemed the man freaked out Sirius too. He nodded slowly. "We're here to buy Harry's wand."

"Your wand arm?" The old man inquired.

"I'm right-handed." Measuring tapes zoomed out of the shelves and wound themselves around Harry. They began measuring everything from the length between his nostrils and the digits of his hand. When Olivander saw the lightning-shaped scar on Harry’s right palm, the man made a little noise.

They tried wand after wand after wand, the old man's delight only increasing at having such a "hard customer".

Those eyes grew brighter as some idea popped into his mind. "I wonder…"

Olivander then disappeared for so long that Harry wondered if the man had forgotten him. He then reappeared minutes later with a very dusty box that had obviously been in some special place. "It's almost been seventy years—but I'd hoped." He took out the wand and held it out to Harry. "Eleven inches, holly, phoenix feather, nice and supple."

The moment Harry touched it, he felt a warmth through his body as every fiber bonded with the wand. Sparks shot out of the tip as his hand moved of its own accord to slash through the air. Brilliant golden sparks flew out the end of his wand. He felt the first smile since the dementor attack grace his lips. It felt amazing. Harry grinned at Sirius, who was looking at him proudly. He was glad that he'd saved wand shopping for last.

"Curious. Very curious,” Olivander muttered.

"Excuse me, but what is curious?"

"I remember every wand I've ever sold. And this phoenix gave only one other feather. Thirteen inches. Yew. Your wand's brother went off to do great things. Terrible, but great."

"Terrible, but great?" Harry leaned closer to the man and asked, "Who?"

"Voldemort, he now calls himself. The Dark Lord. Curious, that its brother would choose _you_ , Mr. Potter."

Sirius jumped so much that he nearly dropped his own wand. Harry tucked his wand safely in the box that Olivander offered. That was interesting.

Olivander accepted the galleons. His eyes flickered to Harry’s hand as he took the coins.

"Curious indeed," he said.

Not knowing what to think of that, they made their way out of the depressing shop.

"What do you think of that, Sirius?" Harry asked once they were a distance away.

"We need to get home as soon as possible or your cake will melt."

"Sirius?" Harry said with a laugh.

“That blasted elf has been working on it for a week, you know. Then we can worry about your school supplies that will get thrown into Azkaban with Reg if he ends up there, since he never bothered to take them out of his pocket."

"Are my school supplies the right thing to focus-"

Before Harry could form a coherent response to that, they had reached the apparition point, and they left with a pop.


	4. The Next Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, 80 kudos? I am totally blown away by the response to his story. Thank you everyone who has read, and especially to those who commented! I also have to thank my friend who convinced me to post to AO3 (OMG ur STILL on ff.net??? - my friend) and she also reminded me that Crouch exists. 
> 
> I'm not super happy with the Death Eater scene, but I'm happy with the Sirius scene. As for why there's a death eater meeting when Voldemort is Minister of Magic- I thought Voldemort and the Death Eaters would agree to keep it. I mean, why shoot a dead horse? Don't replace it if it ain't broke. There is an official court and House of Lords. But Lord Voldemort calls one of these when someone makes him VERY angry, and he wants to remind people that he is The Dark Lord. Their Lord. 
> 
> Also- a lot less people are dead than you'd expect! I promise! Just thought I'd say for no reason at all!

They didn’t end up enjoying the cake.

Regulus didn’t return, and upon the clock hitting 10 PM, Sirius proclaimed that it was his bedtime. He reasoned with Harry that getting a good night’s sleep was the best thing they could do. Harry tried to argue, but Sirius had that look in his eye that meant this was one of the things he would be stubborn about.

Harry’s eyes were drooping, because he had been drained by all the excitement about his birthday, then the dementor attack, and so he blearily agreed.

He fell asleep to his usual dream. He always imagined himself becoming an occlumens and protecting his mind. It was soothing, familiar, and felt safe. It had always been a desire of his, ever since he had found out about occlumency. He had yet to find a teacher…

But tonight, after that familiar dream, he began to have a new dream. In it, a weaker version of the dementor he saw today was chasing after him. He felt his dream self turn around, stop running, and face it. He raised his wand, and he imagined himself casting the patronus.

It was so bright and beautiful, he felt tears come to his eyes.

His patronus took the form of a large snake, and as it wound its coils around him protectively, Harry felt safe.

* * *

**Undisclosed Location, London**

Black forms materialized out of insubstantial shadows and into the large ballroom. Dark robes fluttered as they moved to take their place in the circle. All save three. Two forms lay on their knees in front of a handsome brunette whose magic permeated the air.

When the attention of the room was absolute, he slowly, smiled a ruthless smile that sent shudders down a few backs. “It is an unfortunate event that calls you here today. A most serious breach of our law has occurred.”

“Who has dared to do such a thing, My Lord?” snarled a man with a tic on his lip and crazy black hair. His eyes flashed as he held his wand out, ready to cast a crucio. “Point them out and I will ensure that they will rue the day they even _thought_ about it.”

“So much enthusiasm, Barty.” Voldemort gave him one look, but moved his eyes around the circle, attention now elsewhere. Though the fear was so strong it was almost physical, everyone followed his every move.

“My Lord,” Bellatrix fell to her knees in front of him. “We have all heard about Diagon Alley. Surely for saving Harry-“

Crouch interrupted hotly. “The Dementor Treaty was the first Dark Creature treaty established! As the patronus charm can only be used to convey messages by that group of _scum_ or harm dementors, who have agreed to follow our orders. The Treaty clearly states a patronus results in a life-sentence in Azkaban!”

“If they follow our orders, how did they get out and attack Harry?” Regulus said quietly.

“Lucius,” the Dark Lord said. “You have been in charge of the dementors since the beginning. Tell me, how did that dementor escape?”

Lucius Malfoy fell to his knees. “Forgive me, My Lord. The man who created the Dementor Lines left the ability for Dementors to leave them if they felt their Lure. I believe Harry may have been this Dementor’s Lure, and so it passed with no problem.”

Silence met his confession.

“What the hell is that? Are you making up big words to sound smart?” Macnair gawffed. “You messed up Malfoy. And you too, Black.”

Malfoy stiffened. While he presented himself submissively to the Dark Lord, he turned and fixed Macnair with his steel gaze. “The Lure is a one in a million phenomenon where a Dementor feels called to kiss a witch or wizard. Once done, the Dementor may pass on.”

“That’s absurd. The only way to kill a dementor is to do the ritual!” Macnair returned.

“Do you think you understand Dementors more than me, Macnair?” Lucius said coldly.

“You arrogant-“

“It is true,” Rookwood said softly. The man who was in charge of the Unspeakables made everyone stop and listen. “Everyone knows about the ritual, but there is a second way for a dementor to die. While the ritual destroys the dementor and removes them from existance, destroying their soul which does not get to move beyond. However, the Kiss of the Lure frees their soul, and the soul moves on.”

“Lucius,” the Dark Lord said. 

Lucius knelt and bowed low so his forehead touched the ground then looked up again to speak. “My Lord, a dementor with a Lure will never rest, they would not agree to the line unless it allowed Lures-“

“Crucio,” the Dark Lord said. Lucius thrashed on the ground, his usually neat hair thrown around. As usual, Lucuis kept his screams in. This went on for a full minute, without pause, until he finally screamed. The Dark Lord kept the spell going for at least another minute before stopping.

“Forgive me, my lord,” Lucius panted, shakily resuming his kneeling position. 

“You will renegotiate the Treaty so no one of Magical Britain can be kissed. We will not lose our blood on the whim of a dementor.”

“Y- Yes, My Lord.”

“Now… Regulus.”

Regulus bowed, feeling something clench in his stomach as those red eyes came to rest on him.

“A patronus is a life-sentence to Azkaban…” Voldemort tapped his wand against his thigh, as if thinking. “But you have been a loyal servant.”

“My Lord,” Regulus said. He bowed low.

“For Lord Black, I believe a snapped wand shall be enough.”

Regulus suddenly found he could not breathe. He had braced himself for the worst, but- he found that he was frozen. It seemed like something inside him had broken.

“My lord is merciful,” Crouch said, worship in his eyes.

“Hand me your wand, Regulus.”

Regulus’ hands only shook as he tried to command them to move.

“Is your loyalty to me true, Regulus?”

Regulus swallowed around a numb throat. He thought of Harry and he thought of Sirius, who depended on him surviving the night.

“Please my lord, I will hand over my wand, but I want to know what will happen to that dementor with the lure.”

“Is that so?”

Regulus was having the quickest internal struggle, while trying to appear as unaffected as possible. Regulus' sense was screaming at him to not give in. They were against him saying the one thing that he _knew_ the Dark Lord wanted most at that moment. But he said it anyway, not even knowing it if would be enough.

"I would consider it a personal favour, My Lord."

The scary thing wasn't what the Dark Lord would have him do—he'd sworn service to the man after all—it was because he didn't know _why_ this was what the man wanted.

Those red eyes on that refined and handsome face seemed to stare into his soul, and Regulus stared resolutely at the hem of dark robes at his eye level as he waited. The Dark Lord had hardly aged these years that Regulus had served under him. Voldemort was just as much an enigma to Regulus as he was when he had been barely out of Hogwarts, a young boy that had visions of blood purity and family honour. There were rumors that the Dark Lord had favourites, he was even thought to be one of them, but the man seemed to have no attachments.

The years right after taking over the dark lord’s mood had been most mercurial. He had been prone to fits of temper and sadistic in his punishments. But ever since five years ago when they successfully had the Regime over Wizarding Britain finally recognized by the International Confederation of Wizards as the legal ruling party, the Dark Lord’s moods improved. He was less angry, more calm. He had no attachments. No emotion. And no weaknesses.

“The dementor will be killed by ritual and not allowed to touch your heir.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Regulus managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Closing his eyes, Regulus reached into his robes and withdrew his wand. He presented it to the Dark Lord. He could not look. It could only be a few seconds but it felt like ages before he heard the sickening crunch of wood. Regulus opened his eyes, and he saw his wand lying in two on the ground.

“That is the punishment for casting the patronus, even if you are my most elite.”

All the black robes in the hall got on their knees and bowed.

“Yes, my lord,” they intoned.

“Rise.”

Everyone rose, but Regulus remained kneeling. He didn’t think he could stand up at this point.

“We have punished the transgressions. And now, a reward.”

Whispers rang out along the hall at this declaration. Those in the inner circle were wiser, and did not move. With one move of the Dark Lord’s arm, the hall was silent again.

“For saving the life of an heir of two houses, and acting promptly to prevent an implosion of an escaped dementor, I reward him this.”

Regulus’ eyes managed to focus on what was in front of him. It was rather close and hard to see. When it registered, his mind did a double take. Floating in front of him was a thin, wooden stick held in front of him. It was a darker wand wood, and larger than his previous. He slowly reached out to grasped it. Sparks shot out the end and he quickly pointed it down so it would not hit the Dark Lord.

The man was looking at him with those red eyes.

Regulus closed his mouth and bowed low. “Thank you, my lord.” Relief and gratitude crashed through him so strongly, he suspected he was still shaking but for another reason.

"Harry Potter-Black will be entering Hogwarts this fall, is that right?"

Regulus blinked. His eyes widened minutely at the small talk. A dark chuckle escaped the Dark Lord's lips.

"Don't look so surprised, Regulus." Voldemort said. "Why don't you stand up?"

"Take this. It will let you past the gates." Long fingers held out a hexagonal coin with intricate design and tangible magical aura. "Make sure you order the dementor into a warded room before you kill it. I want no one to hear of its screams."

He shakily stood, accepting the token with hands that trembled. "Yes, My Lord."

"I expect you to smooth the press." The fingers tapped again. Regulus' eyes closed for a moment, thinking about the hassle of interacting with those parasites, for likely weeks.

"You must bring your heir to work, once he is old enough." Red eyes made his adrenalin levels spike. "He must get used to the ropes if he is to succeed you, after all."

"Yes, My Lord."

Dread was sinking in his gut. He swore the Dark Lord was getting some kind of twisted enjoyment out of the affair. He kept his head bowed, waiting.

"One word responses do not suit you, Regulus." The Dark Lord finally stated.

"It is difficult to be thankful to you, My Lord." He gave a small outward smile. "Because I'm not sure if that is what you wish."

A huff of air exited his Lord's lungs. This equated to gales of laughter from a normal person.

“Renegotiate the Treaty, Lucius, and fix the Dementor Lines. Regulus will deal with the dementor and smooth the press.”

* * *

Regulus apparated straight into his bedroom and cast privacy and notice-me-not charms. He really needed to collect his thoughts.

He allowed himself the luxury of running his hand through his hair and cast a few minor hexes which he also blocked before they hit. He then sat on the bed.

The Dark Lord would expect him to go straight to the dementor fields. Whether he could complete the task while he was emotionally worn and physically tired was just another test. He could deal with that.

His fists clenched. He would deal with the rest of the repercussions of that meeting when he got back. Lucius' help would really be appreciated with the press, but with a Treaty to renegotiate, the blonde would not have time.

The charms around his room abruptly shattered as his door literally burst open to reveal a terse Sirius. Regulus had his wand up, pointing, and cast anther privacy charm before words could leave Sirius' mouth.

"We don't hear shit from you for two days!" The man roared, wand tucking back into his robes and prowling towards him " _Two days!_ And when you finally come home, you cast ministry-level anti-surveillance and anti-detection charms? What the _hell_ , Regulus?"

He stood, knowing Sirius could see how he slowly pulled his mask back on. "It has barely been a day. I must go to the dementor fields, _now_ , to kill that dementor before it can escape and find Harry. This charm," he held up the small token, "will not last."

Sirius' nostrils flared. "So you weren't going to tell us anything before you went off on this little venture?" His brother's mouth curled. "Who was going to tell us what happened when you don't make it back? You're physically exhausted! Look at yourself! And you have the stupid arrogance to take on a dementor in this exhausted state?"

Regulus' eyes narrowed dangerously. "Quit it with the self-righteousness, Sirius. I don't want to have to deal with you too."

"Then stop it with that gods-awful and useless mask! Don't tell me old snake-face—" Regulus' wand shot out and cast a few illegal Light privacy wards, "—just let you off with a slap on the wrist for being the first person since the London Example to break his Treaty. Please." He snorted. "Voldemort just gave you that token out of the niceness of his heart, did he? He spared your sentence to Askaban without a backwards glace? He just accepted your feelings for Harry? We both know he had ulterior motives in letting us adopt him, it was too easy, dammit! And I'm worried enough about Harry every day in this sicko-parody of a life without having to worry about my own brother keeping stuff from me!"

"If you are really worried about me, Sirius." Regulus' tone was ice cold and biting. "You will leave now." Sirus took a step back, as if slapped. Regulus neither had the strength nor the inclination to deal with this. "You will not mention any of this to Harry. Tell him I am fine and not about to be sent to Azkaban. Then you will take down these sloppy anti-apparition wards and let me leave."

Sirius actually growled. "Tell me what he wanted, Regulus."

Regulus met his brother's eyes. They stared across the room at each other, only Sirius' heavy breathing breaking the still silence. "I cannot." When Sirius tried to protest, Regulus cut him off. "It is a timed test. I've already stayed for too long."

Sirius still had a dangerous cold fire burning in his eyes. "Fine. You'd better tell me when you get back." The threat hung in the air. His anger was so strong that he merely willed for the stupid wards to come down and his magic rushed formlessly to do his bidding.

The emotionless face of his brother was gone in a flash.

Sirius growled at the empty room.

* * *

The gates were imposing, the fields draining, but the dementors followed orders well enough. Regulus had required two breaks, but cast all the necessary wards to ensure a seamless death for the creature. The dementor entered, obeying his order easily enough. He cast three diagnostic charms, making sure this was the right dementor.

They all came up positive.

"Will you agree to be truthful, no matter what I ask?'

The creature nodded. A flash of light signaled a magically binding contract.

Regulus smiled inside. So far, so good.

Three runes were carved into the ground in front of the dementor and he activated the first one with his wand. As the sigil lit up, he asked, "Whom do you serve?"

"Death." A raspy, tremulous voice answered.

Second rune. "Whom do you follow?"

"Death."

Third rune. "And whom did you betray?"

There was a pause. With great reluctance, the creature said, "Death."

The dementor had failed to kill his prey, and this was failing Death.

With a swift movement, Regulus cut his palm. A single drop dripped on each rune, who began to glow a blood-red colour. "For the crime of betrayal, I banish thee to thy Master." He intoned, foreign magic rushing through him. The magic was so Dark, if he didn't have the Black genes, he probably would have gone mad from the rush. "Thy purpose was to serve, and thy purpose has broken. Begone, creature."

Regulus was unable to summon the energy for a healing spell. He'd skipped a lot of the "thy" and "thou"s but it was the intent behind the magic that counted. He knew he had completed the ritual successfully.

The monster cried the usual shrieking scream. It echoed terribly in the soundproof room.

Regulus shakily held his bloody hand against the wall. With low magic, only his blood would strengthen the ritual.

Then the Dementor's screams began to turn into laughter, and a chill began to go down his back. "Sly snakes, committing me of treachery while they did it first."

The black form was fading, still writhing, the ritual was working, he thought to himself.

"Do you want to know a secret, black one?"

The words were growing fainter, tips of its robes dissolving. Regulus focused on the ritual, trying to drown out the horrible raspy voice.

"I pity humans."

Regulus pushed his magic, forcing more into the runes.

"Especially those who will never know the sweet embrace of Death."

He willed the magic, tapping deep into his reservoirs. He felt the moment the dementor was fully bound.

All that was left was white ash. It was ironic, that such a dark creature would leave such pure remains. He didn't even remember apparating, but he was crawling below his own bed covers. He hoped he didn't get any white powder on his silk green duvet. That was his last thought before he closed his eyes and fainted.

* * *

Harry's room was made of a simple green colour palette, the colour of his eyes. In one corner stood a large dresser and his four poster bed, in the other a large desk overlooking the small square below. And he wouldn't trade them for the world. But what he really loved about it was the wall that was filled with books. Walking through the Black library was often dangerous, the older tombs often liked the feel of bloody fingers in their pages, so an ingenious bookcase had been built for him. On Harry's seventh birthday, Sirius had finally revealed why so many strange noises had been coming from his room. A towering wooden bookcase engraved runes that allowed him to tap a rune, verbally request a book, and, if safe, would appear on the bottom shelf.

It allowed him easy access to all his reading material without having to venture into the library.

When he returned to his room after buying school supplies, Harry flung himself on his bed, exhausted. He twirled his new wand around his hand, incoherent images from the day running through his mind.

_Lucius Malfoy, "If anyone else said that to me, they'd be in Azkaban. Though, you may still end up there for casting the Patronus."_

_The Goblin, looked up at Harry's hand, and for the barest of seconds, and emotion flashed across its face._

_Chocolate, forcing the stifling coldness away._

_Promise me you will not use Dark Artefacts, Regulus had said._

_Flashes of green light, screams in a darkened woods, the feeling of flying through the air..._

_Sirius' face, hiding something._

_Dark red eyes staring at him with something terrible burning in them..._

_The rush of warmth, of belonging, as his wand chose him._

_"Terrible things, Mr. Potter-Black, terrible, but great."_

Sleep would be preferable, but he also wanted some answers. In two quick strides he was across the room and tapping engravings on the bookcase.

"Dark artifacts." In enunciated clearly. Three large tombs popped into existence. But he scowled as one was a guide to elementary magic theory, something he'd read when he was eight, and the others were laws and treaties of Britain concerning its use.

"Magical scars." Various books on simple healing magic. Frustrated, he barely refrained from throwing them at the bookcase.

"Dementors." Harry's eyes darkened as nothing appeared.

And because he just had to try, "Dark rituals: resulting in red eyes." His eyes narrowed as absolutely nothing appeared.

It was not possible that the Black library had nothing on these topics.

It could be that the runes were malfunctioning, but no, he had not had the bookcase long enough for runes to begin fading.

It seemed Harry had outgrown the "safe" reading section.

Gripping his new wand in determination, Harry descended into the depths of the Black Ancestral Home.

* * *

Regulus woke up surrounded by familiar luxurious silk sheets. He shot up and had his wand ready to cast, except it wasn't there. His hand was empty, and Sirius was staring at him from an armchair across his bedroom, sullenly twirling his wand between his fingers.

The silence stretched, Sirius twirling his brother's wand with a skill that spoke of too many slight of hand tricks learned in a misspent boyhood, while Regulus stood in some very rumpled and expensive robes.

He still felt exhausted. His magic reserves were low, and his throat felt like something had died in it. And he had no idea what had happened after he had passed out. "Can I have my wand back?" Regulus decided to say.

"No."

He considered. "As you wish. Kreacher, a cup of water please."

With an exuberant pop, a chilled glass of water appeared on the bedside table.

Regulus sat back down on the bed and sighed as he enjoyed the feel of soothing water down his throat. It was unlike Sirius to keep any emotion to himself, soon he would break this silence...

"Do you have any idea how close you were to dying?" Sirius spat. The glass cup was pulled from his hands.

"You have absolutely no sense of self-preservation!" His brother was now shouting in his face. Regulus rubbed his eyes wearily. He hadn't wanted to deal with this last night-or was it last night-and he didn't want to deal with it now.

Sirius continued to rant, looming above his sittin form. Regulus tried to meditate, to get a better sense of the state of his magical core. It was better to just let Sirius get it out of his system, he knew. The man continued, never seeming to run out of breath, face as red as his house colour.

Finally, Sirius seemed to run out of steam. It was almost half-an-hour later.

"Are you done?" Regulus enquired smoothly. The meditation had done wonders for his nerves.

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, then slammed it shut. The older brother sighed, anger mostly spent. "You weren't even listening, were you? I don't know why I bother."

"I needed to do it, to protect Harry. Don't you dare say that you wouldn't do the same in my place."

Sirius took a seat beside his brother. "I would, I just wish I was the one in your place. You're my younger brother, Reg. I should be the one taking care of you."

Sentimental fool. His brother was such a hopeless case. "You are. More than you know." Regulus let the tender moment sink in, he wasn't one for expressing sentiments but if it would make things smoother with his emotional brother...

"How long was I asleep?" He finally asked when Sirius had stopped blinking.

"Not even 24 hours. It's three in the morning. You went to the dementor fields at four or five yesterday morning."

Shit. He was supposed to be covering the press. They had free reign for the entire day of yesterday. "And what are the newspapers saying?"

Sirius hesitated, and Regulus' head snapped up. He zoned in on his brother's half-wince. "Don't sugar coat it." He warned.

"Most of them aren't bad. Honestly." Regulus had a bad feeling about this. "But the worst one... you're a secret Light wizard that has been defying the Dark Lord and started a cult where people shoot out silver panthers as a symbol of their good deeds... and Harry is a half-veela and Voldemort's son."

Regulus' face lost all colour.

He was absolutely freaking _dead_.

Sirius was also shaking... Regulus blinked.

The older, more mature brother had collapsed on the floor in absolute giggles. "Man, you should've seen the look on your _face_!" The gryffindor roared. “Hahaha…”

The next second Regulus had wandlessly summoned his wand and was shooting a particularly painful stinging hex at his howling brother.


	5. Hogwarts Express

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the pacing of this chapter is a bit slow. I needed to show all this plot! But maybe you'll enjoy it? Harry gets on the Hogwarts Express this chapter, so next we will be at Hogwarts! :)

Magical cameras flashed as Regulus smiled politely. He was in France today, having a meeting with the press. Britain’s Daily Prophet only offered a small article on the incident, explaining that all Dementor Lines would be redrawn, the treaty renegotiated, and the dementors resubmitting to their control. That was simple.

But the newspapers in Europe?

“DEMENTOR ESCAPES AND INJURES CHILD IN MAGICAL BRITAIN” 

“THE DARK REIGIME OF MAGICAL BRITAIN: LOSING CONTROL?” 

The first headline was fine. Unfortunate, but unfortunately factual. The second one gave him headaches. There were some people sympathetic towards the light rebels of magical britain, and those headlines would give them the false hope they needed to wreck more havoc. 

But his personal favourite (sarcasm): 

“INFAMOUS BRITISH DEMENTOR TREATY RENEGOTIATED FOR HARRY POTTER-BLACK”

The ones who investigated and used the name of an eleven-year old child to get famous—he wished he could pay them a visit. But alas, even with his resources he couldn’t find who had leaked the information, or who had written the article. Unlike America, who had adopted the muggle laws to prevent the use of minors names in newspapers, magical Europe did not.

France, in particular, had been one of the worst. So here he was, at a press conference in Paris. Regulus waited behind the podium for the French Minister to finish speaking. Slowly, the camera flashes to die down.

“You ask for my opinion?” Minister Jacques Boisvenue was saying. “It is such a tragedy, what has happened. Such creatures cannot be controlled. They should not be allowed anywhere near civilians and children. My heart goes out to those involved.”

Regulus coughed. The man turned around and had a smile for him. “Ah, Mr. Black, welcome to France. We are glad to have your presence.”

Regulus arranged his own face into a smile. “Minister Boisvenue, it is always a pleasure.”

* * *

"Well?"

Two weeks later, Regulus entered bleary-eyed into the kitchen to be ambushed by a very stubborn brunnet. It was funny how he could be ambushed in his own house, by someone half his size, but that was what it was. He reached down and scooped the small boy into his arms. With a deliberateness, he ignored the glare sent his way.

"Survived alright, living with Sirius?" Regulus asked lightly.

Harry's face didn't change. "It is good to have you back, you have no idea." Then the tone turned sarcastic, "But that's funny, because you haven't actually been back, have you?"

"Harry-"

"I know you don't think I'm unintelligent so I'll skip that speech, and you know that I understand why you're gone. However, I've been doing nothing but research since Diagon Alley and I _know_ something major is up. Whatever it is. I think I may have been a catalyst for something that was in the plans for a while and I want to know..." his voice faltered a bit as he realized how mangled all the words he was saying sounded, "what exactly has been going on."

Regulus met very steely eyes. Harry was growing up at a fast rate. "It's not that simple."

"I know." Regulus blinked at the unexpected concession. "But can you at least _try_ and explain some of it to me?" A hint of irritation was in Harry's tone and it made Regulus' lip twitch, despite the circumstances.

Regulus sighed lightly, making his decision. The time that Regulus could forever shield his charge was disappearing.

“Getting attacked by a dementor in Diagon Alley should not have happened. Though we’ve solved the problem by redrawing lines and renegotiating the treaty, people talk. They whisper that the Dark Lord is losing his touch or something. It’s not true. So, I’m trying to stop that kind of talk.”

Regulus thought he summarized it all very well.

“Sirius tells me it’s not right. Dementors.”

Regulus sighed. “No one likes them. But they are magical, like us. They helped us before, so we are returning the favour. Kind of like when someone does a favour for you, you return it?”

“Yes, I understand that.”

“So, this is how we repay them.”

“Okay,” Harry said.

“Don’t worry kiddo. The time in Diagon really was a fluke. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Harry suddenly hugged him, and Regulus suddenly found he had to blink twenty times in quick succession. He was not teary, dammit. But he had barely been home for weeks now. Perhaps he should take a night off and spend some time at home.

It wasn’t the best idea, it turned out, because it was the other Black’s turn to ambush him.

He had hardly placed a clingy Harry on his lap and began reading a book to him than Sirius found them.

“Reg.”

“Sirius, I’m reading to Harry.”

“You’re avoiding me- I haven’t been able to track you down since the night you returned from the dementor fields.”

“I was busy. I _am_ busy.”

Sirius frowned. He deflated, as if someone had pulled the cord on him. “I know you’re tired. I’m-“ Sirius took a seat on the armchair across from him. “I want to help.”

Regulus opened his mouth to tell him he couldn’t- Sirius was basically under house arrest. Unlike the other Light supporters who were spared—Sirius had fought. Only being a Black, supposedly ousting James and Lily Potter, and having Regulus vouching for him saved his life. He knew Sirius wasn’t happy staying at home, but the man had grown to like having the time to care for Harry. So Regulus shut his mouth again.

“Reg,” Sirius continued. “Talk to me. What did the Dark Lord want in return to sparing you a trip to Azkaban?”

Harry also perked up, looking at him attentively.

“He doesn’t need to ‘want’ anything. He can just command it, and it will happen,” Regulus stalled.

“I’ve seen how he works. Why use force if he can get his victims to offer it willingly? Please tell me, Reg. I can’t sleep for worrying.”

“He needs me for the politics and the press. He needs the support of house Black. I… I gave him a Personal Favour.”

“Magically binding?”

“Of course.”

“That-“

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

“He’s just humiliating you. You’ve sword service, why would he want a vow like that?”

Regulus shrugged. “I do not try and understand the Dark Lord.”

“He can ask you to do anything, and short of killing yourself, you have to do it. Or you lose your magic.”

“Yes, that’s how a Personal Favour works.”

“Alright then. Anything else?”

Regulus sighed, deciding to reveal everything. “I was also reminded that Harry will be under his watch at Hogwarts for the next seven years. Plus, I was forced to break my alliance with Lucius.”

“What?”

“I had to point out that the reason I cast the patronus was because the Line failed. That got Lucius in trouble. He has ignored all my calls – I figure he is both busy, and displeased.”

“Well it’s not like that’s was going to stay secret if you said nothing.”

Regulus shook his head. “That’s not how it works.”

Sirius rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure the Dark Lord did it on purpose. We are too strong in an alliance. It’s better if we are at odds. For both of us.”

Sirius seemed to be digesting the information and was frowning, meaning he was thinking. Harry pursed his lips. “That sucks,” Harry said. 

Regulus laughed, the unexpected analysis lightening his mood. “It does!”

Regulus ruffled the boy’s hair, not being able to help himself. His son was so cute. He was looking at his hands, trademark Potter messy hair sleeked out of the way, but allowed free reign around the edges. His green eyes were hidden from view. But with sharp cheekbones, thinner aristocratic features, and a way of carrying himself that was most definitely Black, Harry was his heir. He was short for his age, with a body that would be described as thin.

Suddenly, they were interrupted by Kreacher. “Master Sirius, your potion is boiling big purple gas-“

“Oh my god I forgot!” And Sirius was racing out of the room.

Regulus wondered what Harry was thinking. He had trained Harry for years how to think, process information, to organize it until he had filtered information down into the necessary.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to grow up a bit faster." Harry said. "Regulus, it's silly for you to blame yourself for _any_ of this."

Regulus' lips thinned. "I know." The repercussions weren't his fault, but it was still his responsibility to protect Harry, no matter what got in the way. And now he was discovering that he couldn't. It did not sit well with him.

“Promise me that you will avoid the Dark Lord at Hogwarts. He shouldn’t have much interaction with you anyways- but, please promise me, Harry.”

“I promise.”

Regulus smiled. “Good.”

"Can you teach me Occlumency?"

The question was so unexpected, Regulus did a double take.

"No." Regulus said. "I forbid you. You are too young to make the decision to learn, and way too young to start learning it. Do you know what it could do to a developing mind, to have someone tear through it? Absolutely not.”

"Everyone's an occlumens. You, Sirius, Lucius, Narcissa, Bellatrix-it's rumored that the Dark Lord taught her himself. Everyone of any rank has learned it. All at a young age."

"We were teenagers, much older than you. And we had no choice because we were in a war. The man who had been running Hogwarts, a master Ligilimens, was also a leader of the Light. We had chosen to join the Dark Lord while still at school, so we had no choice but to learn.”

Harry still said nothing, looking at him stubbornly.

"Do you understand? We were on the opposite side of the war, so we had no choice but to learn how to shield our minds."

Despite Regulus' insistence, Harry was still impassive. He raised one eyebrow. "And how is that different from my situation?"

Regulus took a breath to scream his answer, but then stopped. Suddenly, Regulus was very, very afraid.

"That was a bit ambiguous," Harry continued. "I do not support the Light. But there are secrets I want to keep."

"Such as..."

"Such as the fact that I have the brother wand to the Dark Lord."

Regulus couldn't stop the slight widening of his eyes. "You have the what?!"

"Olivander told me. The wand that chose me shares a core with the Dark Lord."

Regulus raised a hand to rub his forehead. Why did everything have to happen now?

"I know how dangerous the attention of the Dark Lord is. I'll be under his gaze for the rest of the year. I do not want him to find out in my mind."

"Olivander may have already told him," he pointed out.

"Olivander was neutral in the last war and will probably remain so. Unless the Dark Lord goes there to ask him, Sirius says it's doubtful he knows... I asked him after we bought the wand together."

His eyes felt like narrowing again. Just what was Harry planning? "It's still not that simple. It takes months to conjure a wall. Years before you can choose what to show and what to hide. If the Dark Lord thinks you're hiding something, no wall will stop him. "

"I've heard it's possible-"

"You are not turning to Dark magic to seal your secrets. Dark magic should never be the answer to your problems." Regulus said firmly. "Even so, the taint of it alone may draw the Dark Lord to you, and there are ways known to him to break even the strongest magical bond."

"I wasn't about to suggest that. There are Light spells-"

"Which are illegal."

Harry pursed his lips together.

He admired his boy's way of thinking, and the countless hours of research that must have gone into this, but fooling a Dark Lord was never a good goal.

"Let this go, Harry. I doubt he doesn't know of it already."

"Fine." The boy seemed to deliberate for a moment. "I'll let occlumency go if you teach me about dementors."

Regulus gave in again and rubbed his forehead. "Dementors? Why do you want to learn about them?”

“I want to be able to protect myself if it happens again.”

“The Dark Lord strengthened the lines. Renegotiated the Treaty. Short of teaching you the patronus…”

“Please?”

"When you come back for Christmas, Sirius and I will teach you.”

"Christmas?" Harry echoed, disappointed. "That's months away."

“Most adults cannot cast a full corporeal patronus. It’s thought to be one of the hardest Light spells.” Regulus sighed. "The next time where I'll have any peace is Christmas."

Harry considered. Regulus sighed to himself, how had Harry become so calculating? It wasn't chilling so much as unexpected in an eleven year old, off-putting.

Then the boy's expression cleared to be one of happiness, and the smile on it made Regulus feel warmth inside. "Deal."

Regulus held his hand out to shake, and didn't complain at all when Harry bypassed to hand to hug him.

It had been a while since they'd last seen each other, after all.

* * *

**September 1 1991, Platform 9 and 3/4**

The steaming red engine gleamed in the background of a boisterous platform. Excited children all dressed in the black uniforms of Hogwarts tried to find their places in the long line that extended along the station.

Harry had shooed Regulus away the moment he could, as his new father had more than his fair share of work. Shrinking charms weren't difficult to remove, so Harry could walk comfortably through the crowd without the need to lug suitcases around with him. Hedwig, his owl, had already flown to the Hogwarts Owlery to meet him.

"They shouldn't be allowed to do this to us." Harry turned to see a glaring Blaise approach him, arms crossed and to those who knew him well, sulking. "We're not even at school yet and they're forcing us to mingle with these plebeans?"

Blaise was a dark haired, vaguely handsome boy who was always at every social convention possible. His mother had been be with a chain of rich men who'd left them richer after their deaths. As Mrs. Zabini was a Dark Pureblood, Blaise was considered to be among the elite. To make up for his lack of political power, Blaise liked to broadcast his beliefs of the others' inferiority.

"Well you never know what kind of interesting connections you could make." Harry replied smoothly, hiding his irritation. "Like who are these charming gentlemen behind you?"

Blaise sneered, his eyes gleaming in delight at showing how he knew something. "This is Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe." Harry shook each offered hand, noting how both boys were a head taller and wider than his frame. "Scion to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Goyle and Crabbe respectively."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Harry said. He had heard about these boys from his tutor—they were slow but made up for it with their cruelty and viciousness and seamless teamwork. It seemed that their fathers had arranged for their heirs to have a close bond, and it was rumoured that they never went anywhere together. Blaise was indeed quick to have already gained the acquaintance of these two. "I hear your skills with the blasting curse is unparalleled."

A flash of surprise and obvious smugness shone from their faces. Blaise's own happiness seemed to fade from both Harry's change in attention and Crabbe and Goyle's inability to keep their pureblood masks on. His voice was a little irritated when he said, "And this is Harry Potter-Black. Scion of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black and Potter."

The two thugs looked at each other and sneered at Harry's name. Then they each looked back and stared at some place above his head instead of looking at him.

"Thanks, Blaise." Harry said, returning his gaze back to the dark brunette. "How are you doing, by the way? I heard you had some trouble with a couple of werewolves in Venice?"

The boy's eyes immediately lit up again. "Yeah. It was the most awful thing! They were completely out of bounds, coming within the manor's grounds. I'm not supposed to say where, but let's just say that the head of _that_ particular house" his smirk turned vicious, "enjoys a stay with the dementors."

It was harsh, but an influential family like the Zabini's would have done far worse if they put their one male heir at risk.

"So what's happening now?" Harry asked.

"We're lining up according to rank. We'll be seated in compartments with those of similar prestige, of course." His voice was know-it-all. He probably had connections to get him this information.

"Er, so,"

"The Black family has been a prominent dark family and a Most Ancient and Noble House for centuries. You'll probably be in the same compartment as Malfoy. Or Nott." There was a wry grin. In anyone less sophisticated, it would have been jealousy in those eyes. "I'll see you later." And he was quickly left alone.

"Everyone's avoiding me." Harry muttered at Blaise's retreating back.

"Astounding observation." drawled a voice from behind him. Turning, he regarded his best friend, the Scion of Malfoy.

"I see your sarcasm, at least, has improved." He smiled to see Draco, but focused on his earlier question. "Why?"

"We're Scions of a Most Ancient Houses that have been famously Dark for centuries and our fathers are among the Inner circle." Draco explained matter-of-factly. Then smirked. "I could hit them with a crucio and probably get _them_ in detention."

It caused a few frightened boys in shabby clothing to further move away from them. There was something sinister about that smirk though. Malfoy was planning something. Harry didn't like the way his eyes focused just-so when looking at him. "And just what are you trying to insinuate with that phrasing of 'improved'?"

Harry grinned. "You duelling skills must not have, if you were so sick as to miss my birthday."

Malfoy scowled. "I had inoculations, clotpole. It had nothing to do with our duel the day before. Which I won, I might add."

"Have I hit a nerve?" Harry said, smirking at the fuming Malfoy who still had his seamless pureblood mask on tight.

"You wish." Malfoy linked an arm through Harry's and yanked him with more force than necessary to the first compartment on the train. Once they sat down comfortably on the plush seats and cast the usual privacy charms, Malfoy said, "Now. Tell me why the hell father wouldn't let me so much as _mention_ you or the name Black for all of August."

"Ugh." Harry said, closing his eyes as he reclined on the comfortable leather seats. "Why don't you ask Lucius?"

There was a huge moment of silence.

"Don't pretend you don't know." The ice in that tone made Harry tense. It seems like all the masks had fallen now. And Harry could now see that it had been a mask, the continued friendly banter all the way up to the train.

Now Harry was irritated. "Know about what?"

Draco swallowed, studying him closely, considering.

"Father has been removed of his command of the dementors." Draco started.

"What?!" Harry's mind whirled. Hadn’t the Dark Lord ordered Lucius to fix the dementor issue? Then he had removed the man’s command over the dementors? The dementors were the Death Eater's most feared police force. When Lucius had control of them, he was second-in-command without question. Without that control, his power waned.

Silver eyes surveyed him, guarded. "So that answers that question." Only then did Harry realize his reaction had been too violent. He schooled his features into something more diplomatic. "You really didn't know about it, at least not all." Something flashed in silver eyes. Was it, disappointment?

"Father doesn't like to show weakness, Harry." His chin jutted out stubbornly. "So tell me what the _hell_ happened for him to break one of his most powerful alliances."

Draco was inspecting him like a potential ally or enemy. Only his next answer would decide which it was. "The Dark Lord decided that their alliance gave each of them too much power."

"That doesn't answer my question!"

"Do you honestly think I know?"

They looked at each other across the seats.

Draco stood up stiffly. "Then perhaps I've misjudged you."

A terrible feeling rose up inside Harry. What did he mean? The usually warm grey eyes were now cold as they looked at him. Unsure what to do, Harry stood as well. There was a hint of betrayal lurking in those eyes, maybe a little hurt. "You know as well as I that Regulus loses just as much as Lucius from this arrangement."

"Oh _really?"_ The sarcasm in that word shocked Harry. "You _really_ don't know anything do you?"

To be honest, Draco's insult stung. Outwardly, he didn't say anything.

The blonde stood up to leave the compartment.

"Where are you going?"

"Out, Potter-Black. Or are you visually impaired as well?"

The compartment door slammed shut.

Harry collapsed on the seat with a groan. He had so not been expecting that. How the hell had the situation deteriorated so quickly?

Minutes later, a confused-looking boy entered the compartment. With brown hair and brown eyes, the weedy boy would have been utterly unassuming if not for his blade of a nose. It gave his face a sharp look, one of intelligence.

"Theodore Nott, Scion of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Nott," he introduced. "You must be Harry Potter-Black."

"Indeed. It's nice to meet you," Harry said, motioning to a seat. "You can call me Harry."

"And it's Theo." The boy gave a wry grin as he sat across from him. "It's hard not to know each other's name, with what our titles engraved outside this compartment."

"They're what?" Harry thrust his head out to see, and indeed, where there had been four blank gold plates, one the top two it now read Harry Potter-Black and Theodore Nott. Despite himself, he was impressed with the magic on the train.

"I thought we were assigned seating."

"Generally speaking. We scions are restricted to the first four compartments."

"Which is smart, if you ask me. Prevents any fights before they happen." A sharp girl's voice added. They turned simultaneously to view a beautiful raven-haired girl who was already wearing her Hogwarts robes. The absence of a crest on her chest marked her as a first-year, and she was inspecting them with interest. "Dorea Rosier."

"Harry Potter-Black."

"Theodore Nott."

She took a seat beside Theo. "Dorea is fine, but if you call me Dory, I will kill you."

"Noted." Harry said. "Call me Harry."

"Theo."

She raised an eyebrow. "So, which classes are you excited about?"

"I can't wait to learn Potions." Theo said excitedly. "Draughts and solutions and remedies. And poisons of course."

"I find how potions can last for so long, especially compared to spells, very interesting." Harry agreed.

"Well I can hardly sit still until we have our first Curses and Countercurses lesson. Dolohov teaches it, and I hear he places a heavy emphasis on the curse part." Dorea said with a wink.

 _It may be a good idea to read ahead a little for that class then._ Harry thought.

They changed into their robes while Dorea was turned.

"Have you guys heard about the raids?" Dorea said. It seemed that she enjoyed gossip.

Harry stayed silent. _Not at all._ At least his robes still fit.

"The little nuances the so-called light resistance has been trying to do?" Theo scoffed. "Some resistance. They're just thieves. They target purebloods because they know we have money."

"They attacked the Rookwood manor last month."

Harry whistled. Augustus Rookwood was in charge of the Department of Mysteries and more than a little paranoid.

"What did they do?"

"Couldn't get in, could they? The family wards were too strong, plus whatever surprises Rookwood has in store. They then turned and stole all the valuables from Yaxley Manor."

"Idiots." Theo said contemptuously. "We're done. You can turn around now."

Dorea did and they dived into a deep analysis of all their upcoming courses. "Obviously, herbology will be a joke. It's taught by the most Light witch ever."

"Some plant properties can save your life," defended Theo. "And they can be used most amazingly in potions."

"I think astronomy will be boring. Counting dots in the sky?" Harry said.

"But think of all the dark rituals that require a good grasp of star positions!" Dorea cried.

"I predict transfiguration shall be the bane of my existence!" Nott cried dramatically.

Conversation flowed naturally in their compartment of three, and they were undisturbed. Before long they had pulled out of the station and were chugging through the forests of Britain.

At about halfway through the trip, a lady with a trolley appeared. Harry bought them all chocolate frog cards, and they chattered excitedly about how many of the people on these they knew and had met.

“I got Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black!” Dorea said excitedly.

Theodore shuddered. “She came over for dinner once. Gave me nightmares.”

Dorea glared at him. “She’s the most powerful witch of this generation! It’s rumored the Dark Lord taught her himself! She teaches duelling for the upper years. I would die if I got to learn from her,” she said with a dreamy look in her eye.

“She’s my aunt so she comes for tea every week,” Harry explained.

Dorea’s eyes lit up. “What’s she like?”

“A bit crazy,” Harry said with a laugh. “But very good at dueling. And very smart.”

They chatted happily for the entire journey. Dorea had a good cheer that was contagious. Even Theo, who was nervous, was eventually opening up.

"Don't take this the wrong way or anything," Dorea began when they were almost at the school. "I thought all the scions would be pumped up snobs."

Theo snorted. "You haven't looked in a mirror then."

Dorea mimed aiming a curse at Theo. He immediately pretended to drop to the ground in pain. Harry laughed, even as Dorea turned her glare on him. He joined Theo on the ground.

"You guys! Stop it!" she said, trying but failing to hide her smile.

"Being snobby isn't as much fun,” Harry quipped.

“Hear, hear,” Dorea laughed. She mimed her wand at herself and then joined them on the floor.


	6. The Sorting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow another chapter!

Harry, Dorea and Theo left the train in high spirits.

A rather irritated Blaise came to meet them. "We're all just waiting on the platform. Again!"

In his wake came Crabbe and Goyle and a rather pug-faced girl. "This is Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson," he introduced. It seemed the boy was also less than happy with his companions on the train.

Harry had his pureblood mask on as he could see Draco approaching. The Malfoy scion had his gracious but pureblood-high-ranking-death-eater's-son mask on.

"I am Harry Potter-Black, this is Dorea Rosier and Theodore Nott," Harry introduced.

Blaise's eyes immediately lit up at the names of the inner circle.

"Pleasure to meet you," Blaise gushed. 

They all shook hands. Crabbe and Goyle tried to squish Harry's hand which he extracted with difficulty.

"Oh, and that's Draco Malfoy." Blaise continued, as if he were best friends with the Malfoy heir.

The blonde looked every inch the proud heir as he approached. At Malfoy's name, Crabbe and Goyle perked up. Something like awe was flickering in their eyes, and they tried to casually arrange themselves to stand behind Malfoy. Their ability to do that incognito was about as good as their attempt at ensuring Harry didn't notice they gave him a wide berth.

So someone must have given the two thugs a briefing of Ancient and Noble Houses. It didn't take a genius to figure out that they'd been told to stick with Malfoy and avoid the Blacks like the plague. Harry guessed it kinda made sense when Lucius had such a big network—they would all probably know to support Malfoy.

But he was surprised when Parkinson's eyes widened a little upon his name. "Enchanted to meet you both," she said politely. She held out her hand for the traditional pureblood greeting and Harry pressed the proffered hand to his lips lightly. The movement led her to gracefully land on his side, where she stared challengingly at the large thugs. It was much more subtle but sent out a clear message.

Why would she do such a thing? Harry realized he really needed to know more about politics if he was going to survive here. Regulus was in charge of the press and international trade. Didn't the Parkinsons also own some high-end potion manufacturing company? Did Regulus somehow help them? Or did they want something in return for their daughter taking his side at Hogwarts?

"First years! First years follow me!" The professor led them into a little embankment on which strings of boats were anchored. "No more than four to a boat, mind!"

Harry, Dorea, Pansy and Theo all got onto one. And with a wave of the professor's wand, they were off.

When their boat rounded a bend and they got their first view of the castle, Harry almost cried out. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He recovered quickly and closed his mouth. Pansy had her mouth open for so long, Harry could count the number of molars she had.

Shocking white torchlight against a starlit sky shone to reveal a grand castle. Blocks of towers and turrets and rose up like an impenetrable fortress. The confusing architecture made Harry very excited, seeing the real potential of finding secrets within those walls.

Once they landed, they trudged up a winding path stone path.

Their seven-people introduction-gang made up about a fourth of the first year students. They all stared at each other uncertainly. One chubby boy looked like he was about to cry.

"Are we supposed to be waiting for something?" Harry asked in the telling silence.

The large wooden doors that stood five times their height opened. It revealed an impeccable entrance hall. There was a staircase on each side, Harry noticed. There was not a speck of dust or stray thread out of place. Torches glowed, polished armour gleamed, and paintings peeked out with scrubbed faces. Harry rarely felt awe when material items were concerned, but this was one of those times. The air was saturated with magic. Though the decorations at Malfoy Manor were more impressive than these traditional decorations, and Grimmauld Place could beat this for sheer dark magic overload, there was something special here. A harmony. A promise of having a little of everything, something for everyone, and a best of both worlds kind of deal. Cheerful talk and laughter came through two double doors directly in front of them and fell on the first years as a much needed reassurance.

They were told to wait in the entrance hall, right outside the two double doors. Soft chatter was starting among them, and Dorea whispered to Harry and Nott, "The Sorting should be soon."

Nott was shivering quite harshly, being very thin, and not having brought a cloak. "W-Why d-don't they h-hurry up?"

Suddenly, an intoxicatingly dark aura surrounded the first years, engulfing them in thick, dangerous currents. A man dressed in elegant black robes with trimmings of the deepest red walked into the hall. The slim figure was twice as tall as most of them and easily held everyone's attention. His mere presence felt dangerous. The most frightening thing was that he hadn't seem to come from anywhere, it was like he had been there the entire time and only now let his presence known.

He looked like a man in his forties, and was very handsome. He held himself with a relaxed confidence that was more dangerous than a terse, arrogant person. Harry felt himself drinking in the man’s aura and appearance.

"Welcome," he said. The man possessed a smooth, melodious voice. "…to Hogwarts." It held an edge, a warning, of what Hogwarts represented.

All the students bowed. “My Lord,” a few whispered.

Red eyes surveyed the small crowd and all those that met the eyes flinched. A terse silence was held. Warning done, the very shadows of the hall seemed to swirl around the man and he was gone. The darkness and sheer power then dissipated in an instant.

Even Draco seemed a little paler than usual.

"Doesn't waste words, does he?" Harry said in the terse silence, trying to break the subdued air that started to feel like dementors were around.

Nott shoved an elbow into his ribs.

A stern looking witch appeared, introducing herself as Professor McGonagall. She began giving instructions that Harry only half listened to.

 _So that was the Dark Lord,_ was all he could think.

When the doors finally opened, he found himself looking around everywhere. Four house tables were there, like in Sirius' times. He paid no attention to the Hat's song, instead choosing to compare this Hogwarts with what Sirius and Regulus had told him. All House tables seemed to hold an equal amount of people, except for the yellow and blacks, who were strangely small. Out of all the houses to suffer change, Harry thought it would have been Gryffindor, as Light families usually came from there. But no, it was the Hufflepuff house that had suffered a loss in students.

Slytherin looked to house a proud bunch, with Ravenclaw looking very sharp, Gryffindor was bursting with a sort of tension, and Hufflepuff looked merely subdued.

"Bones, Susan!" McGonnagall read from a piece of parchment. The girl became the first Hufflepuff, and the table in the hall that was covered in yellow applauded loudly.

Crabbe and Goyle managed to get into Slytherin, though "Finnigan, Seamus!" went into Gryffindor.

"Longbottom-Lestrange, Neville!" Whispers burst out. A trembling, pudgy boy nearly ran to the chair and stuffed the head on his head. Harry tried to smile encouragingly at his childhood friend, but Neville’s face was under the rim of the hat. It took well over a minute to decide where to put Neville, but it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Neville ran so quickly to the table that he took the hat with him. He had to job back to return it.

Harry looked to see Aunt Bella’s reaction. To his surprise, Bellatrix was smiling and clapping.

Malfoy swaggered up when his name was called and the hat barely touched his head before it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" He looked extremely pleased with himself. He got the biggest applause from the table of green and silver. He also shot Harry a look.

Harry gave Theo’s hand a squeeze and wished the boy luck. Like Draco, it had barely touched his head before the hat yelled, "SLYTHERIN!"

Parkinson, despite her earlier political maneuver, made the hat shout, "RAVENCLAW!"

And then at last, "Potter-Black, Harry!"

Dorea gave him a little smile.

The next second he was looking at the inside brim of the hat.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his head. "Difficult. Very difficult."

"Plenty of ambition, I see. Not a bad mind, either."

 _Please not Gryffindor._ Harry thought.

"Not Gryffindor, eh? You have plenty of courage, Gryffindor would make you strong."

 _But that is not what I value above all else._ Surely it could see he abhorred single-minded determination?

A silence.

"No, what you value above all else is loyalty."

 _I do not—_ Harry tried. A sudden fear gripped his chest. _Are you going to sort me into Hufflepuff?_

"It is not the house for losers, as your friends seem to think." He chided.

 _If I am put into Hufflepuff—I am the Black heir._ He struggled with his words. _That would be—Regulus would have a field day! It would be unheard of!_

"Seeing as your only refutation is because you do not wish to harm those you care for, the loyalty I see in you is clear."

He gritted his teeth. _Not Hufflepuff._ Harry thought.

The hat let out what sounded like a long-suffering sigh.

Whispers were raging like wildfire across the great hall.

"Not many do prefer it, nowadays."

Harry started sweating.

"Pity. If you are sure, then it better be…"

"SLYTHERIN!"


	7. Welcome to Hogwarts

Polite applause sounded across the hall, as some children were shaken out of a daze. Harry had taken the longest of all the students to get sorted. He sat beside a grinning Nott and offered nods to everyone around him, his mask in place. He could let no one know how badly the sorting had shaken him up. Hufflepuff? His mind was starting to hurt.

"What took you so long?" Nott complained good-naturedly. "The feast won't start before everyone is sorted."

Harry shrugged, carefully noting everyone else's reaction to his sorting. Most people were unsurprised, but if the flair of Malfoy's nostril was any indication, he wasn't happy.

The sorting continued.

"Rosier, Dorea!"

Harry and Theo watched closely. Like Harry, the hat took a long time. Her hands clutched the stool, and her mouth was firm, as if she was arguing in her head. However, a minute later, the hat shouted out. "SLYTHERIN!"

Smiling proudly to herself, Dorea waltzed to the other side of Harry and plonked herself down.

"Congratulations." Harry whispered as the next kid was called up became a Hufflepuff.

Theo nodded from his other side. "Knew you could do it!"

She gave them both a smile.

Whispers rang out at their table as a "Weasley, Ron." was called up. The hat hadn't even touched the boy's head before it called, "Gryffindor!"

"Blood-traitor." Malfoy whispered darkly. "Don't know where they get the money to send all those pests."

Harry looked in the direction Malfoy had his gaze, and spotted a row of redheads in the Gryffindor table. They looked like a happy lot, if a bit fierce, and oddly proud of their shabby and second- or even third-hand clothing. As he watched, the youngest brother turned a rather unattractive shade of red as his family congratulated him.

Finally, Blaise joined them at the Slytherin table. His beedy eyes darted nervously and finally selected a seat close to the edge of the table.

“So it food finally going to appear on the table?” Theo complained.

“How can you only think of your stomach?” Dorea remarked. “We’re at _Hogwarts_.”

Silence descended suddenly in the hall. The Dark Lord stood. His black robes contrasted brilliantly with the golden hall and large throne-like chair he sat upon. Harry sat on the side closer to the staff table. Harry could see that the man had a lean, handsome face, with perfectly proportioned features, thick eyebrows, and a thin mouth. The Dark Lord looked between his thirties and forties, a sort of timeless look between youth and age. His features were generally handsome, but it was the way he held himself and the tangible aura he gave off that gave his looks a charismatic pull. But the hint of red behind is eyes gave a sense of tantalizing danger.

Harry shivered. He’d never felt such a strong feeling about an individual before. Judging by the way everyone near the Dark Lord was trying to lean into his aura, and the captive faces of the audience, he wasn’t the only one.

The man spoke in a pleasant speaking volume, yet everyone could hear him clearly.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has a long and great history of producing outstanding wizards and witches." Dark eyes swept the hall and despite himself, Harry felt himself drawn in. Malfoy sat up straighter. "Here, the professors are the best in their fields. As such, they are given the upmost jurisdiction for all rewards… and punishments."

"Though you may try to appeal to your Heads of House—who can bring the issue to me," The corner of his lip curled into a smile that sent shivers down people's backs. "I would not recommend it."

"This year, the third-floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

"At Hogwarts, I am Headmaster, and may be addressed as such. Enjoy the feast, and welcome to a new Hogwarts school year."

At an invisible signal, food appeared in all the plates of the great hall. The Dark Lord sat down smoothly, and his attention was taken up by an exuberant Bellatrix Lestrange, whose dark hair was flying everywhere and aged eyes shining very bright.

Harry immediately scooped a little bit of food onto his plate. Dorea, usually so verbose and outgoing, was silently pilling on mashed potatoes and gravy with a concentration that had to have been faked.

The chatter was amazingly neutral and meaningless, so much so that Harry started to think there were lessons on this: to talk so much and seem pleasant while really saying nothing at all. That was, until a clueless second year brought up the topic of the raids.

"Did you hear how Yaxley Manor was raided the other day?" He whispered conspiratorially to a very pretty third year. Naturally, the entire table managed to eavesdrop.

The third year girl sniffed, and he took that as his cue to continue. "I heard they now have a ward breaker on their side-"

"What a dumb move. A huge waste of a good secret weapon. They revealed that for a handful of jewels."

"I hear Professor Yaxley is devastated."

Harry craned his head to get a better look at Yaxley, who was supposedly the History of Magic teacher, according to Dorea.

He was a square-faced man, with a flat nose that made him look permanently displeased. Long white hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and despite his standing among Voldemort's ranks, his robes were a shade on the worn side.

"Why do you think they attacked his house?" Harry asked Theo and Dorea quietly. "He doesn't look rich."

"Any death eater must look rich to a Light renegade." Theo said.

"Not here." Dorea whispered, shaking her head in warning.

Harry scooped a little bit of food onto his plate and continued to study the teachers table. He couldn't help looking towards the dark lord. The man had a magnetism that just attracted attention. But he belatedly realized that he’d promised Regulus to stay away from the Dark Lord. He stared at the woman beside him. Her curly black hair was styled, her eyes twinkling in delight as she talked, layers of careful makeup spells only just masking her age.

He then looked at the man on his other side. He was the youngest person on the staff table, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Their eyes met briefly.

“That’s Professor Jugson,” a voice said smoothly, "He is said to be the best space and dimension bender in Europe. The dark lord recruited him personally. He teaches Theory of Magic."

Harry looked up surprised to meet a pair of equally green eyes. "Daphne Greengrass, second year," she introduced, and Harry shook the offered hand politely.

"Harry Potter-Black," he said.

"I know who you are. You took ages to get sorted." She leaned closer. "Plus, you're one of the heirs of the inner circle." She offered a playful grin. "That makes you instant spotlight holder in this school."

"You have a fanclub yourself," Harry retorted. Many upper year boys had been vying for her attention. Harry had noticed how she had given them all her attention, evenly distributed, like a queen at court.

Daphne smiled at the praise. "I think you will be far more interesting. A hatstall, a heir, and that's not even taking into account all of the things people say about you and the Dark Lord."

"Excuse me?" Harry said, shock running through him. "I've never even met the man until today." He couldn't help but look at the Dark Lord, as he was mentioned. Harry was startled when crimson eyes met his. When it happened, an electric shock seemed to flow through him. It was so sudden and so unexpected that he thought he imagined it. Did the man know when he was being talked about? "What things?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out." Daphne said with a smirk. "So, why'd you take so long get sorted?"

"Was it particularly long?" Harry asked. "Wouldn't it be stranger if someone was sorted quickly?"

Daphne laughed as he avoided the question. "You were getting close to a Hatstall. Everyone pays attention to those who take longer, because they tend to be important people." She lowered her voice, "There isn't a dark or light lord who wasn't a hatstall."

Harry looked at her curiously. "People don't seriously believe that, do they?"

Daphne shrugged. "People are already saying the scion of Longbottom may be the next Light Lord."

Harry craned his neck to see the small, pudgy boy who looked overwhelmed surrounded by such rowdy children. Conversation seemed to be flowing but the boy looked like he was stuttering over his words. "He looks like he's about to cry."

Daphne smiled. "Well, you can't expect much from the Light, can you?"

Before turning away to talk to another second year.

From then on Harry followed her lead, talking pleasantly with those around him but saying nothing. Giving off the air that he was concentrating on his food more than the conversation, Harry actually found it rather intellectually stimulating. To work so hard to appear one way while thinking in another.

All too soon the sorting feast came to an end. Two fifth year prefects led the way down into the depths of the castle. The flagstones echoed with their polished shoes and quiet voices as they went deeper and deeper underground.

"The Slytherin Common Room is in the dungeons, so your first order of business would be to learn some warming charms." They were led down winding staircase after the other even going through a painting at some point and passing a huge bell. The torchlight danced funnily along its edges. "The password changes every week and it is currently _Lineage_. Changes will be posted on the common room's bulletin board, or you can ask a prefect." They finally reached a smooth piece of wall in a dark corridor. Harry realized that the two torches in this piece of wall had snake engravings on it with eyes of emerald. Harry thought one of them moved for a second, but he blinked, and it was gone.

"Lineage." One prefect said. All the first years gasped as the wall went in, then smoothly rose up, to reveal a huge room. Interspaced windows let in green light, filtered through the lake. A large fire roared welcomingly in a large fireplace in the center, in front of which sat three empty couches and a single armchair. People seemed to be sitting according to year, orientated in a circle around the room and they were talking quietly. Quite a few turned to look at the first years as they were led to a bunch of squishy armchairs closest to the door. "As you can see, seating in the common room is by year, and rank. Everyone is welcome in the space of their year, and in the common area in the center." He pointed to a little indent in the ground, like a pit, where there were a mixture of study tables and armchairs. "You need a specific invitation to enter the area of any year above you. Sit down."

Harry quickly grabbed an armchair but others were not so lucky. Blaise was squished on one of the couches with Crabbe and Goyle.

The prefects stood firmly in front of them, legs apart and glaring.

"Now, the most important thing about Slytherin House is we take care of our own. House unity is key. Play any games you want—inside the house. Once you step out that wall you are all Slytherins, and you will work together against any other house that dares stand in your way." He met the eyes of each first year coldly.

The other continued. "Anyone who fails to do this, or shows their own petty rivalries to anyone outside the house is to be reported to me. And they will soon wish they had never been born. Understood?" When no one replied, Nott whispered again. "Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir." They chorused.

"Good. Slytherin is the house of the great, cunning, and ambitious. The Dark Lord himself was a Slytherin. I think it's safe to expect great things from all of you." Many like Malfoy were puffing their chests out. "Slytherin house offers more opportunities, like etiquette workshops and politics training. Who will be taking up the mantle of tutoring those will be decided the first week, so pay close attention to the bulletin for news." A board that had been unnoticed before was right beside the entryway. Everyone would see its contents before walking out. "Any questions before I show you the dormitories?"

He was greeted with a stunned silence.

"Now, breakfast is at seven, and an older student will be down here at six forty-five to lead the way to the great hall for the first week. Miss this time and you're on your own."

* * *

Harry and Theo whispered for Dorea to meet in the common area later, before they were whisked to see their dormitories. Extending from either side of the fireplace were two winding halls that led into a maze of dormitories. The right one for females and the left one for the males.

Though there should only be seven rooms, one for each year, to the first years' increasing horror, there was quite a trip before they stopped at a wooden door that looked just like all the others. The prefect turned the knob and pushed open the door to reveal one large, spacious room. Green light shone in from tall slit-like windows that spanned the far wall. Four poster beds with the Slytherin colours lined both sides of the room, large wardrobes beside each bed. The small door on the left led to a lavatory with three stalls.

The dorm was perfect: large, cozy, the only complaint Harry had was that it lacked his Black bookshelf, but that probably wouldn't have worked here anyway.

"Lights out at ten." The prefect warned without looking to see how they were doing. He immediately turned on his heel and left.

The six boys regarded each other.

"Look, here's how it's going to go." Malfoy said, an altogether too familiar sneer on his face. Seeing the facial expression that Harry had always liked Malfoy to use on others, now used on him, it made him mad. "I am going to get the bed closest to the window. And no one is going to get in my way." He lifted his chin challengingly. Crabbe and Goyle took the opportunity to crack their knuckles behind Malfoy.

"Or what?" He said, before he could consider the results of his actions. "Get Crabbe and Goyle to sit on us?"

Blaise couldn't hold in a snicker, but quickly held up his hands when Malfoy turned his glare.

"Or I'll make you eat slugs." Malfoy said, eyes narrowing and pulling out his wand.

Harry's wand was in his hand too, before he knew what was happening. "You're not the boss of us, Malfoy." He said, sounding calmer than he was.

"Stop it." Theo said, gripping both their wands. "It's the first day of term, and you'll both get detention for a month!"

Harry and Draco glared at each other.

Slowly, Harry lowered his wand. Malfoy smirked.

Malfoy took a step back. When Harry didn't move he turned and walked to the furthest bed. The moment he sat on it, his belongings appeared around him. He raised a mocking eyebrow. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" Crabbe and Goyle gave stupid laughs.

Harry opened his mouth but Theo put a hand on his shoulder. He shook his head warningly.

"Well then, I guess it's only fair the two friends who helped you gain that bed sleep beside you." Harry remarked pointedly.

Before Malfoy could react, too busy gloating in his win, Crabbe had taken the other window bed and Goyle the one beside his. Their belongings appeared with a pop.

Malfoy shot up from his bed, face growing an unattractive shade of red. "Why you little-"

Harry just raised an eyebrow. "Were you not going to reward the people who helped you?"

Now Crabbe and Goyle turned confused faces Malfoy's direction.

The blonde shut his mouth with a snap. Glaring at Harry the entire time. The more it happened, the more Harry was getting used to it. Malfoy realized just as Harry had that nothing could be changed now. The beds, once claimed, would be theirs for six years. A sickly sweet smile was plastered on. "Of course. I'd just like to be the one to announce it, in the future."

"Of course." Harry remarked.

He quickly sat on the bed furthest from Malfoy, on the side away from the washroom and closest to the door. With a pop, his trunks appeared. Theo hurriedly sat on the bed beside his, leaving Blaise with the bed beside the washroom and closest to the door.

He'd already almost fought with Malfoy. Despite everything, Harry still felt a twinge of hurt whenever Draco turned on him. This was going to be a long week.

"Night, Theo." He whispered to the darkness of the room.

"'Night Harry."

* * *

"Hey, wait for me."

Theo whirled to face a sleepy looking Harry. "It you're going to go meet Dorea, I'm coming too," Harry whispered, blinking and stumbling over.

"If we get caught, we'll have detention for a month." Theo whispered back. Nonetheless, he led the way, Torchlight flickered as their shadows were long, and Harry doused his wandlight so they could be less conspicuous.

The common room was empty this time of night, the filtered moonlight from the green lake waters cast eerie shadows on the ornate armchairs. Thankfully a house elf or someone had a roaring fire. As they approached the first year couches, the armchair turned.

"Oh good, I didn't know if you'd come." Dorea greeted.

"How are the girl dorms?" Harry asked.

Dorea rolled her eyes. "Three stalls for six people—I'm never going to get a shower."

"You can always curse others out of your way."

"But then they'll curse me back in my sleep. No, no matter how tempting that sounds. I'll save the cursing for those that try and touch my books."

"Are you sure you're not meant for Ravenclaw?" Harry smiled as he took the seat across from her. Dorea, instead of laughing it off, frowned.

"It did consider placing me in Ravenclaw." A look of stubbornness passed her.

"You make a wonderful Slytherin." Harry said. Theo nodded.

"Who else would figure out to arrange a meeting like this on their first day?" Theo said.

Dorea looked at them both in the eyes. "Thanks." She reached as if to pat them on the hand, then aborted the motion. She sat rather stiffly and blinked. "I think you too make good Slytherins too."

"Dorea, you were about to say something about Yaxley before, in the great hall."

Dorea shook her head. "Whatever has the Light raiding Death Eater houses, I know it's big. No matter what everyone says, it's not about the money."

"Dad didn't talk about this." Nott said, frowning.

"Neither did Regulus." Harry said. Not that it mattered, Regulus hadn't told Harry anything as it was, and the man had been swamped throughout August. "If not money, then why?"

"Why now?" Theo asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Harry paced from the left of the fireplace to the right.

"You think they will try and attack one of our houses?"

Dorea shrugged. "They're looking for something important. My dad says the Light haven't moved like this in years."

A dull sound from around them made them jump. It was the common room entrance opening. They scattered.

Harry could just hear the footsteps, definitely belonging to an adult, as he raced down the halls back towards his dorm, Theo hot on his heels.

Before he reached his bed, he felt the lightest brush of magic. Like a powerful wizard's aura, it was magic in a physical form that brushed him, sending tremors down his body. Not daring to look back, Harry felt a cool wave of relief as he dove under his covers. Safe.

Still, the adrenaline mixed with the fear of being caught made him tremble as he lay on his bed. He couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Fully clothed, Harry stared at the ceiling for a long time.


	8. Curses! Class! Conversations!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late - been busy - please enjoy the chapter!

_Come to me._

The ten-foot-long king cobra slithered obediently through what used to be shatterproof glass and onto the shoulders of his Speaker. He arranged his white and black coils neatly around the lapels of the man’s black robes, taking care not to accidentally strangle his master. The snake sighed in contentment. It was nice to feel something other than the same fake sand.

_Do you have a name?_

_What is a name?_ he asked.

_Then I will call you Nigel._

_Nigel. I like it._

* * *

A pleasantly muted light shone through the Slytherin common room windows. The first day of classes dawned bright and early. All the boys managed to get down into the common room by 6:40 AM where an irritated sixth-year girl sat in the first years’ couch. Draco pointedly pretended to ignore Harry and look superior, while Harry was doing a good impression of smelling something bad under his nose. They sniffed at each other.

Nott was looking at Harry like he was an idiot for continuing whatever rivalry that was beginning. Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle were looking more like zombies than students. They yawned and looked bleary eyed.

Parvati Patil, Millicent Blustrode, Pansy Parkinson, and Dorea Rosier came down soon after. Once the clock on the common room wall hit six thirty, the elder Slytherin girl didn’t spare them a glance and began walking out of the room. They all scrambled to follow.

It was a slightly out-of-breath group of first year Slytherins that made it to the great hall that morning. They all took seats on the end of the table where the first years were expected to sit. Harry sat beside Theo and Dora. They were so early that the other tables were still mostly empty. Only a few early risers had gotten up by now. But the tables themselves were piled with food. Harry inhaled the smells of fresh bacon happily.

Shorty after they had all piled their plates with pancakes, a sallow-faced, hook nosed man approached them. He had a curtain of greasy hair and glared at them.

“Your timetables,” he bit out.

Draco gave the man a huge smile, and Harry wracked his brains for the man’s name. This man was also an inner circle member, albeit one he barely saw. Harry wondered why, taking particular interest in studying the man. When handing the timetable over, their eyes met.

“Ouch,” Harry cried. “A papercut,” he explained to the worried looking Theo. The Professor had been forceful when handing over the thick parchment. Holding his paper up and away from the steam rising from his breakfast, Harry looked over his timetable.

* * *

**Name: Potter-Black, Harry**

Year: First House: Slytherin Pathway: Advanced (Noble and Most Ancient Scion)

House and Year Mates: Blustrode, Millicent. Crabbe, Vincent. Goyle, Gregory. Nott, Theodore. Malfoy, Draco. Patil, Parvati. Rosier, Dorea. Zabini, Blaise.

Pathway and Year Mates: Bones, Susan (Hufflepuff). Chang, Cho (Ravenclaw). Longbottom-Lestrange, Neville (Gryffindor). Nott, Theodore (Slytherin). Malfoy, Draco (Slytherin). Rosier, Dorea (Slytherin). 

MONDAY: double CURSES AND COUNTER CURSES with Prof. Dolohov (Slytherin + Hufflepuff). Lunch. CHARMS with Prof. Flitwick (Slytherin + Ravenclaw). THEORY OF MAGIC with Prof. Jugson (Slytherin + Ravenclaw).

TUESDAY: double HERBOLOGY with Prof. Sprout (Slytherin + Gryffindor). Lunch. Double TRANSFIGURATION with Prof. McGonagall (Slytherin + Hufflepuff).

WEDNESAY: double HISTORY OF MAGIC with Prof. Yaxley (Slytherin + Gryffindor). Lunch. CHARMS with Prof. Flitwick (Slytherin + Ravenclaw). Night: ASTRONOMY with Prof. Sinistra. (Slytherin).

THURSDAY: ASTRONOMY WORK PERIOD (free). HERBOLOGY with Prof. Sprout (Slytherin + Gryffindor). Lunch. TRANSFIGURATION with Prof. McGonagall (Slytherin + Hufflepuff). THEORY OF MAGIC with Prof. Jugson (Slytherin + Ravenclaw).

FRIDAY: double POTIONS with Prof. Snape (Slytherin + Gryffindors). Lunch. CHARMS with Prof. Flitwick (Slytherin + Ravenclaw). RELATIONS IN A PUREBLOOD SOCIETY with Prof. Gamp. (Advanced Pathway)

Theo was looking at his timetable with a frown. “Potions is not until Friday. And it’s with the Gryffindors.”

“Cheer up!” Dorea cried, throwing an arm around the forlorn boy. “We have curses first!”

“I had been planning on reading ahead for that.” Harry said, sharing a pained look with Theo. Neither of the boys particularly liked their timetable.

“But we have Potions, History of Magic, and Herbology with the Gryffindors,” complained Blaise, seeming like the food was finally waking him up. “Seriously? I’d take a clueless Hufflepuff over a self-righteous Gryffindor any day.”

There were some mumbles of agreement.

* * *

A grim-faced sixth year glared at them this time, gesturing them to follow. It seemed they would continue to have someone lead them to their classes. The first years ran to keep up with someone two heads taller than all of them, the twists and turns of staircases getting horribly mixed up in their heads.

“Don’t get used to this,” the sixth year explained. “It’s just the first week we’re sending someone to look after you new snakes. You guys are expected to know the way after this week.”

Promptly any persons thinking of thanking the upper year anyway faded as the boy practically sprinted away.

“What a prat,” Blaise muttered.

The Curses and Counter Curses classroom was located between the sixth and seventh floors, as it took up two floors in height. It was half the size of the great hall and looked like an ancient Greek Coliseum. Desks were arranged in a U shape around a clear area of ground, at the head of which stood a blackboard and teacher’s desk. The room had one door, which they’d entered from, but there was no one else in sight.

“What time is it?” Dorea whispered.

Harry raised his wand to cast a tempus, but he’d no sooner got it out of his pocket that it went flying out of his hands. The wand went over the heads of the other Slytherins behind him, and into the hand of one of the most disfigured men he had ever seen. The students turned as one.

A long, pale, and twisted face glared at them all. They hadn’t even heard the man enter behind them.

“Drawing a wand in my classroom has consequences,” he hissed.

Professor Dolohov did not expand further as space was quickly opened up for their professor. The man’s eyes swept over the assembly, lingering on Harry, Dorea, Theo, and Malfoy. “Well what are you waiting for? Take your seats.”

The class scrambled to do as they were told. Behind the man had been a group of Hufflepuffs, the plump faced children sat rather tentatively in their seats.

Roll call occurred quickly, and then he introduced his lesson. “I do not expect you to understand the beauty that is the perfectly crafted curse, the innate understanding, power, and precision that is required behind the creation of a spell. Here we teach them as if they were children’s rhymes, and their counters just as so. But what we have to understand is that magic is alive. Remember, while the spell is dead, _we_ are alive.”

The first class passed with a lot of note taking. From Professor Dolohov’s attitude, he seemed ready to have them casting killing curses at each other from the start. However, he seemed really into the complexity and magic theory behind curses and couldn’t stop talking once he started. He spoke quickly, piling on theories after theories, with increasing complexity as he went.

He went through the seven rules of Langderhans, the most important rules about curses, and finished by explaining complex wand theory.

“The wand is a tool. Not the source of your magic. However, it’s not like a sword or an axe, which are dead tools. Your wand chose you.” He tapped his own wand on the desk to make a point. “I’m sure you’ve all heard that the wand chooses the wizard. But what does that mean?”

“The wand and its holder has a bond. This bond can grow stronger or get weaker. A good witch or wizard fosters a good bond with their wand. There are certain things each wand likes or is more in tune with. It chose you because you are naturally more inclined towards the things it likes. So, you don’t have to change your behavior to appease the wand, you are naturally likely to please it. However, if a person changes, either in temperament or the type of magic it casts, your wand may reject you. I’m sure you’ve heard of the penchant of dragon core wands for adventure and powerful spellcasting. They may just give out and die out when they’ve been used one too many times to summon their master’s slippers. So, know your wand. Do not let it get to the point of death before changing your wand. Understand it, and foster this connection. The nine feng rules of wand fidelity, discovered by Lao Zhi of Ancient China are as follows. Write this down.” 

There was a lot of dry verbatim listing of rules and explanations for each. Harry dutifully copied each law down and tried to remember them. But there were so many. No sooner had Harry copied down the nine rules of wand fidelity than Professor Dolohov started on a new topic.

“Unless you are a wizard of unimaginable magical strength like the dark lord,” he sneered, making sure they all understood that they were not, “the majority of duels tend to end within one or two spells. A split second’s speed is what separates you from victory or death. Being attuned to your wand can give you this advantage. Phoenix wands in particular are naturals at being attuned. Sometimes, they can cast before the wizard has consciously formed the intent. I am about to teach you three exercises you can do to tune your wand to your mind. They all involve meditation, which takes time to learn, so you should all start as soon as possible. Here,” he tapped his wand on the chalkboard and it was filled with descriptions of exercises.

“A word of warning. Those with a phoenix core will have more ease with the speed exercise, but have difficulty with the control exercise. Dragon heartstring is the opposite. Unicorn tail is good at both, but master of none.”

“Make sure you review what I’ve taught today. You will be casting spells next class. Dismissed.”

And Professor Dolohov walked out of the classroom.

All the Slytherins had more than five pages of notes by the end of the double period, and they felt like their heads were going to explode. Even Crabbe had managed to write two pages.

The moment he left, the Hufflepuffs frantically talked with each other. Harry realized that they were comparing notes, filling in places each of them missed. He watched them idly, marveling at how one bloke copied all the bits onto one sheet then made copies of that sheet so everyone had a master copy of the notes. That was so smart…

The Slytherins did not panic like the Hufflepuffs. They gathered their things and walked away calmly as a tight knit group.

“He doesn’t even ask questions!” Blaise erupted when they were back at the great hall for lunch and safely among only Slytherins. “He goes sooooooo fast.”

“If you wanted him to stop, you could have asked a question,” Pansy sniffed.

“And risk getting cursed? No thanks. Did you see how he was _caressing_ his wand the entire class?”

Dorea placed her wand on the table and started slowly petting it, like a pet. “Oooh, my little fluffykins, you will be such a good boy today and cast the curse using the third rule of Langderhans, who’s a good boy?”

All of the first years burst into laughter. Even Draco gaffed.

“I bet that’s exactly how to get your wand to become “in tune”,” Millicent said dryly.

“You betcha,” Dorea smiled.

* * *

During lunch, Harry pulled out his schedule again to see what courses he had next.

Harry noticed someone reading over his shoulder. “You’re so lucky you have professor Gamp for Relations in a Pureblood Society!” Parvati squealed. “Not only do you learn politics, he teaches special magics too!”

“Parvati loves necromancy,” Dorea explained with a roll of her eyes.

“Don’t you have him?” Harry asked Parvati, who was still hanging over his shoulder.

“You guys are in the advanced stream. Only the scions of the Noble and Most Ancient Houses get to have the advanced courses,” Parvati said.

“That’s not exactly fair, is it?” Nott said. He knew to keep his voice down, so only those close to him could hear. Harry privately agreed.

“How is that not fair?” Draco demanded loudly. Apparently not quiet enough. “The Noble and Most Ancient Houses have contributed the most to society. Everything around you, even Hogwarts itself, was built by the Ancient Houses. Our blood makes us stronger in magic, and we are taught magic at a young age, so we are the obvious choice to learn complex magics. While _some people_ can’t handle powerful magics until they have practiced magic until third year, a _Malfoy_ would have no trouble.”

Parvati flushed red. She looked down, so it looked like she was chastened, but Harry could see her eyes flash.

“A Malfoy could certainly have trouble,” Harry interjected, “if what happened during our last duel was anything to go by.”

“You-“ Draco shot up out of his chair, face growing a shade of red that surpassed Parvati’s.

Harry stood up too. Draco reached for his wand, and Harry plunged his own hands into his robes. A fight would get him in trouble, but it would also reassure the Dark Lord that the Blacks and Malfoys were not forging an alliance. And Harry knew that he was evenly matched with Draco.

Before either of them could pull out their wands, Snape swooped in on them. He cast some type of spell that make them paralyzed.

“Detention, Potter-Black,” he drawled, “for provoking a fight in the great hall.”

Harry looked at the man incredulously. Draco and him both started the fight, why was he the only one getting detention? He opened his mouth to retort, but the man gave him a withering look that made the words crawl back into his throat. 

“The Dark Lord has promised a personal visit to the first person given detention this year. I had hopes it would not be a Slytherin. But it seems _some people_ are a lost cause.”

A personal visit? Harry paled. The colour also drained from Draco’s face.

“Uncle Sev?” Draco was saying. “I just wanted to scare him, not…”

“If you have a problem, you can take it up with our Lord,” Snape said shortly. “Six o’clock to the headmaster’s office today.”

Harry felt furious, this was completely unfair. Dorea was kicking him under the table. Harry looked at her and saw her minutely shaking her head. He saw that Draco had already sat down and Snape was leaving. Slowly, Harry sat too. 

“I think,” a female voice coughed. Bellatrix Lestrange stepped down from where she had been sitting at the head table. Her eyes danced wickedly as she surveyed the scene. “Mr. Malfoy was the first to draw his wand. He should be the one to get detention.”

Snape whirled on her. Harry’s head snapped up, and he saw that Snape’s face had an impressive impassiveness. The silence stretched on, while the two professors looked at each other. Bellatrix smirking, and Snape completely devoid of emotion. 

“Both of you report to the Headmaster’s office at six,” Severus said finally.

Bellatrix gave Harry a wink as she waltzed past.

* * *

“You okay, mate?” Theo asked worriedly.

Dorea was also looking at him, a little pale.

“I’m fine,” Harry said.

“I get why Snape favors Malfoy since he’s his godfather, but why’s Bellatrix helping you?” Theo whispered to him.

“She’s my aunt,” Harry whispered back.

“She’s a Black,” Dorea said at the same time.

“Oh, yeah…” Theo smacked himself in the head. “I always forget, with her changing her last name to Lestrange and all.”

“I’m really worried for you and your detention though,” Dorea said, frowning at Harry. "Are you actually an idiot? Picking a fight in the Great Hall, where all the teachers are sitting?"

“…” Harry wasn’t sure what to say. He had meant to pick a fight, but he hadn't meant to do it in the great hall. And now thinking on it, this was a bad idea. He hung his head. 

"It's just a detention," Theo defended, and Harry gave him a relieved look. 

Dorea rolled her eyes. "Just a detention... it's the Dark Lord." 

“He’s not going to kill them,” Theo said, which was not exactly the most reassuring thing.

"I'll be fine," Harry reassured. 

“First years!” The sixth year in charge of leading them to their classes was calling for their attention. They all scrambled to finish lunch and follow him.

Charms was taught by a tiny little wizard named Professor Flitwick. How he had gotten this position despite rumored to have a bit of goblin blood in him became apparent the moment they entered the classroom. The shelves behind the teacher’s desk were filled with Duelling Trophies. There were so many that they filled a shelf that went all the way around the classroom.

“Not only was Flitwick a dueling champion,” Dorea whispered, “I heard he got a spells, charms, and defensive magic mastery.”

“Wow,” Theo breathed. Even Draco looked impressed.

The man was calm and supportive, a contrast to Professor Dolohov. Charms was quickly turning into one of their favourite classes. It also happened to be the first class they got to practice magic. Draco pretended to be bored, but even he was intrigued by the way Flitwick explained the intricacies of the spell.

“Flitwick is great,” Blaise cried once they were out of that class and heading to Theory of Magic. Blaise got the spell quickly after Flitwick had helped him. “I’ve tried Wingardium Leviosa at home before, but I’ve never gotten it to work.”

Malfoy stuck out his chin. “Well, _I_ got this spell ages ago. But… I must admit his explanations provide details that are still useful.”

“Something even the great Malfoys can’t do perfectly?” Blaise retorted.

“Even I can admit when a Duelling champion and Master of spells has more knowledge than what I can learn from a _book_.”

The two continued bickering all the way to a Theory of Magic.

Professor Jugson was a quiet man that had a large dark aura. If Harry hadn’t felt the Dark Lord’s aura yesterday, he would say it was the strongest aura he had felt. The man spoke softly but eloquently about the topics covered in the first chapter of Theory of Magic. All too soon, class ended.

* * *

As the time to 6 o’clock drew closer, Harry felt his stomach get tied in knots. After dinner, the same sour-faced Slytherin told Draco and Harry that he would lead them to the Headmaster’s office. Harry had long since forgotten his name.

“Good Luck!” Dorea and Theo whispered.

Draco and Harry made their way up the stairs and towards the Stone Gargoyles.

They hardly dared to breathe and didn’t look at each other. This was what they’d wanted, wasn’t it? For the dark lord to notice their rivalry.

There was such a feeling of dread as they walked towards the stone gargoyles in the wake of the Slytherin. The boy knocked on the door.

“Enter,” a smooth, velvet voice rang out.

Harry felt a wave of power come with the sound and felt himself leaning forward. From the way Malfoy jumped, he knew he’d felt it too. The Dark Lord’s voice was so mesmerising. If the Dark Lord ever sold audiobooks, things Sirius once showed him, Harry thought they would be bestsellers. The older boy pushed the door open and motioned for them to step inside.

The door revealed a tastefully decorated circular office. A twenty-foot long giant snake perched upon a rail that ran half-way across the window that dominated the back of the office. Bookshelves filled with rather dangerous looking tombs reached towards the ceiling. There was no ladder to allow access. Harry remembered the Dark Lord could fly. All the instruments like the telescope and the cauldron in one corner were a beautiful silver with some green engravings. There was also a set of daggers on the far wall, but otherwise, it seemed very much like what the office of a headmaster ought to look like.

There was a large desk in the center of the room. Some neatly stacked paperwork was on the desk, as well as a quill and inkpot. The Dark Lord sat comfortably behind the desk, as if he were leisurely reading the paper in front of him, and his aura was overwhelming.

Harry and Draco stared determinedly at the ground, as the older Slytherin boy left without another word. The door clicked shut behind him. The Dark Lord didn’t move.

The seconds stretched along.

He finally placed the paper he was reading neatly in a pile on his right and looked at them.

“I had promised a most interesting series of events for the first troublemakers of this year. I am…disappointed. Not only are you both Slytherins, but scions of my Inner Circle.”

Harry felt like his stomach was doing acrobatics, and Malfoy started shaking, head bowed in mortification.

Despite being curious about an encounter with the man for years, Harry found that being close to the man and his aura was frankly terrifying.

“You will both help Professor Jugson in renovating the third-floor corridor. Report to Professor Jugson’s office after supper each Tuesday and Thursday, until October 1st.”

“Yes, Headmaster," Harry and Draco said. 

Harry was aware that he was holding his breath and he didn’t dare look up.

“You are dismissed.”

Harry turned towards the door. He eyed Draco as the blonde shook, trying to hide his trembling hands in his pockets.

“Mr. Potter-Black,” the Dark Lord called. “Stay behind for a moment.”

Draco’s exhausted eyes met his before he quickly made his way outside. Harry turned slowly. Surely the man didn’t mean to do something now, when he had the ample chance to dish out a suitable punishment two seconds before. But why would the Dark Lord want him alone?

The door of the headmaster’s office closed behind Draco, a small tap betraying a lock set in place.

Harry continued to stare at a spot on the ground. 

“Do you fear that I will punish you if you look up, child?”

Harry’s eyes snapped up of their own accord. His green eyes looked into a pair of bright red ones, and for the first time he realized that they were slightly wrinkled. Wrinkles were around the edges, for all the Dark Lord was doing to preserve his youth. The sharpness of the intellect behind those eyes made him shiver again. Something about them was expectant.

“I expect I’ll find out,” Harry said. The cheeky retort slipped out of him before he could clamp his lips shut. And it had come out all _cheery_. It was the last emotion he was feeling, but he was trying to not look scared, and well, overcompensation was a thing. 

“How quaint, for an eleven-year-old. Tell me, what do you think occurred the day of July thirty-first?”

“The day I went to Diagon Alley? Would you like a recount of the events from—“

A small wave of a hand cut his sentence in half. “Merely your thoughts.”

Something clicked. The man wasn’t asking about what happened in Diagon Alley, but the events that took place afterward. “It was completely out of my depth, My Lord,” Harry said honestly but cautiously.

“At Hogwarts, you may refer to me as Headmaster. You are not yet among my ranks, child.”

“Apologies, headmaster. I'm not certain what you are asking.”

“What do you think occurred the day of the thirty first? Answer it however you will.”

Well, Harry thought about what he knew. It was all on the tip of tongue, but he felt like he shouldn't directly answer. 

“Would you like the truth, or what I believe you wish to hear?”

"An interesting question," the man said. "What you believe I wish to hear.”

Harry had been looking directly at the Dark Lord from the moment the man had practically dared him to. Was that a small twitch to his lips as he said this?

“The merciful Dark Lord once again rewarded his loyal followers. He went as far as to make an exception in the dementor treaty in order to protect pureblood heirs.” Harry said with what he knew to be a straight face.

“And the truth?”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Uh.” Hadn’t the man already chosen which of the two he wanted to hear? Now he wanted to choose the other, so he could hear both? Wasn’t that cheating?

“I shall know if you lie.”

“An accident gave the perfect opportunity to correct a few political balances,” Harry said.

Harry would always remember that moment. He was scared out of his wits, and the most unexpected thing happened. Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord, smiled. It wasn’t a large smile, or very long, but it changed the man’s face into something more amicable. Harry thought the man was objectively rather handsome. The snake behind him was concerned and slithered under the man’s hands until he began to pet it.

“H-Headmaster?” He asked nervously.

“You are dismissed.”

The tone of dismissal betrayed nothing. Was that a test? Had he passed or failed? 

“A word of advice, Mr. Potter-Black,” the velvet voice whispered as he opened the door. “Not everything is about politics.”

Harry headed back towards the Great Hall as fast as he could without running.

What did that _mean_?


	9. Detention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent way too long agonizing over the order of the scenes in this chapter. Happy Friday!

“Did you hear who got detention?” Lisa Turpin, gossip queen extraordinaire, whispered to her friends in the corridor. They were heading back to the Ravenclaw common room after dinner. 

“Who? It’s the first day!” Cho Chang asked.

“Weasley twins,” Sue Li said. As a true Ravenclaw, her head was behind a book as she said this. She managed to walk, talk, and read all at the same time.

“Nope,” Lisa said, popping the p. “You guys’ll never guess.”

“Who?” Pansy asked.

“Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter-Black.”

“Oh my god, the inner circle heirs?”

“It gets better.”

"Tell us!" 

“Our dear headmaster… the dark lord… said he would give the first person to get detention this year his _personal_ attention.”

“Holy shit, they had detention with the Dark Lord?!”

“I’d leave. I’d just straight up leave if that happened to m-“ Cho started saying.

“What happened? What did the dark lord do to them?” Sue asked. 

“How did they get detention in the first place?”

“Well I was washing my hair at lunch, but I hear from-“

“-They fought in the Great Hall. I think they hate each other -“

“-maybe it’s like one of those love-hate things-“

“I bet those boys they did it on purpose for the _personal_ attention,” Lisa smirked. 

That made all four girls pause and stare. There was a reason she was the Gossip Queen. She could come up with the juiciest, most exciting twists to news. But this was…

“No way. The dark lord is very scary.” Cho said.

“Okay, okay, we get that you hate the idea of detention with-“

“OMG here comes Draco Malfoy.” All four girls shushed and walked past the blonde without a word. The Malfoy heir had his head held high and a poker face on as he passed. He nodded to them and they hurridly nodded as well. They made it a few hallways away from him before speaking again.

“He’s so polite,” Pansy said, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. “And handsome.“

“Why’s he coming back from the headmaster’s office alone?” Cho whispered.

* * *

**6:30PM, September 2 nd, Slytherin Common Room**

Harry had headed straight for the common room after the conversation with the Dark Lord. What he didn’t expect was for all the first years to be gathered in the center. They were in a small semi-circle, and they stopped talking when they saw him approach. 

Malfoy stood with his arms crossed, a step back from everyone. Everyone stared at him as he approached. Some people looked a bit embarrassed.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Harry asked.

“Nothing!” Blaise said, a bit too quickly. “Professor Dolohov and Flitwick assigned homework. I’m going to get a head start.”

All the first years mumbled their excuses and dispersed to different armchairs around the room. A few went back to their rooms. Malfoy looked like he wanted to say something for a second but turned and left for the dormitories. Crabbe and Goyle followed.

“Theo?” Harry asked, turning to his two friends. Only he and Dorea remained.

“You okay?” Theo asked. “We were worried when you didn’t return with Draco.”

“What happened?” Dorea asked. 

Harry shrugged. “He just asked me what I thought happened on Diagon Alley. I said I was scared.”

“That’s it?”

“He also asked me what I thought about his decision.”

“And?”

“I might have said something like, ‘I think it’s a good move to correct some political balance’?”

Dorea groaned. “Why the hell would you say that?”

“The Dark Lord can read minds! I couldn’t have lied!” Harry became panicked. He didn’t want to share the Dark Lord’s strange reaction to that, by smiling.

“Yeah, but you’d notice if he entered your mind. He causes a lot of pain when he does.”

“Well, I didn’t know that!”

Dorea shook her head. “Does your father tell you anything?”

Harry stayed silent. He honestly didn’t know what to say. “He wants to protect me.”

“My father tells me everything," Dorea said. "Even if I don’t want to hear it. He always tells me that knowledge is the best protection.”

Harry looked down. 

Theo's head whipped back and forth at this conversation. "Well, I for one have no interest in what my father has to say," Theo said. 

Harry and Dorea turned to look at him. 

"Why, mate?" Harry asked. 

"I don't really care for him. I was basically brought up by house elves." Theo explained. "All that to say, you will be fine, Harry. So what if you said that to the Dark Lord? You're alive right? You live and you learn." 

Harry smiled. 

Dorea rolled her eyes. "Boys," she muttered. "Well I'm glad you're alright, Harry. If that's all, I still have to do those readings for Curses." 

“Uh, before I forget, what were you guys talking about when I walked in?” Harry asked. 

“They were just gossiping about you.”

“And…”

“They seem to think the Dark Lord has an interest in you.”

“What?”

“I know, right? It’s so dumb. I’m sure it’ll go away soon.”

* * *

**September 2 nd, Slytherin Common Room**

As Harry sat by the window of the Slytherin common room, he thought about his first day at Hogwarts with some terpredation. He began trying to write a letter. He didn’t want to give his father and godfather a heart attack by mentioning his detention and being meeting the Dark Lord alone. He wondered what to write.

_Dear Regulus and Sirius,_

_I have, as expected, been sorted into Slytherin House-_

His eyes surveyed those in the common room calmly, couldn’t help but begin to compare himself.

\-- _along with all of the other inner-circle heirs in my year. It seems very strict here. Dorea Rosier and Theodore Nott seem nice, and we are fast becoming friends. Draco and I are not as close, but I guess that is to be expected._

_I’m glad I had tutors, I think everyone here is ahead of the curriculum._

_I just wish there had been a lesson on what to do when there are certain strange rumours going around about you and a Dark Lord. (Which you forgot to mention?)_

_Miss you,_

_Harry._

_PS: Give Kreacher me love, will you?_

There. That sounded alright.

Regulus was in charge of PR, so if Harry mentioned it to him, any rumors should be squashed quickly. Harry also wanted an explanation. How had the rumors even started?

* * *

**September 3 rd, Hogwarts Grounds**

“Herbology is my favourite,” Milicent cried as they began the long trek to the Greenhouses. Lucky for them, it was a sunny morning, and it hadn’t rained last night. They were greeted by a dumpy little witch named Professor Sprout. She had a beaming smile for them and wore a robe decorated in the yellow and black of her house. Harry vaguely remember that she was the head of Hufflepuff. 

His attention was drawn away from their professor, however, when he noticed Theo starting to shake.

“Are you cold, mate?” Harry asked. “I’ve got an extra scarf in this bag.”

Theo seemed to debate with himself before leaning towards Harry and Dorea. “I’m terrified of magical plants,” he whispered.

“What?” said Harry.

“Why?” said Dorea.

“When I was six, I almost got strangled by my dad’s Devil’s Snare.”

“What?”

“Yeah…”

Harry shared a look with Dorea. Who leaves a child unsupervised with a Devil’s Snare?

“It’s okay, Theo,” Harry said.

“I’m a pro at herbology,” Dorea said. “I’ll partner with you Theo.”

Theo’s face melted with relief. “ _Thank you_. You are the most incredible person I have _ever_ met,” he gushed. 

Harry felt the urge to laugh at the look on Theo’s face. He coughed into his fist instead.

Meanwhile, the other Slytherins were discussing their own topics. 

“I’m not looking forward to our first class with the Gryffindors,” Blaise said darkly, when professor Sprout had gone to unlock the doors and was out of earshot.

Parvati stiffened. “Watch your mouth, Zabini. My twin sister is in Gryffindor!”

“Gryffindor is home to the most filthy, stupid, arrogant-”

“Take that back, Zabini, or I’ll-“

“Be quiet guys, house unity, remember?” Draco hushed. Though they continued glaring at each other, they fell silent. “Here they come.”

The sound of fast footsteps could be heard. Three girls and three boys came running down the path along the edge of the castle. One girl looked like an exact replica of Parvati shot down the path. The only difference between Parvati and her was the red and gold tie.

“Parvati!” she cried excitedly. When she got close enough, she tackled the girl.

“Ow, Padma, my _hair_ ,” Parvati cried, but still hugged her back. Padma buried her head in Parvati’s shoulder.

“I’m never leaving you again,” Padma declared dramatically.

“Don’t be silly,” Parvati said. “I just saw you last night.”

“At least we have plenty of Gryffindor-Slytherin classes!” Padma beamed. Behind them, Blaise rolled his eyes. “Horray,” he whispered darkly. Padma and Parvati either didn’t notice or didn’t care, though Harry suspected the latter.

“Come on in, class!” Professor Sprout shouted. They all piled inside obediently, with Padma chattering to Parvati at a hundred miles a minute.

Everyone stood obediently inside the entrance to the Greenhouse while Professor Sprout finished roll call.

“Today we’ll be watering and pruning shrivelfigs!” Professor Sprout cried happily. “Their leaves have medicinal properties. When skinned, the fruit contains blossoms inside which produce a purple liquid. Can anyone tell me what this liquid can be used for?”

The liquid? What liquid? Harry looked over at Theo who looked just as lost as he was.

Dorea and Millicent’s hands shot up, and, surprisingly, Neville’s.

“Mr. Longbottom-Lestrange?”

“Yes, um, it can be used for, um, many potion making, I mean, potions… such as the shrinking solution.”

“Correct! Five points to Gryffindor. Yes, Miss Blustrode?”

“It can also be used in the Elixir to Induce Euphoria,” Millicent said smartly. 

“Correct. Take five points for Slytherin.”

There was some more lecturing before Professor Sprout asked the children to pair up and start pruning.

Theo immediately paired up with Dorea, mouthing ‘sorry’ at Harry. Harry reassured him that it was alright. Theo was literally shaking, and Harry was okay with anyone. You couldn’t pry Padma and Parvati apart. Millicent, not wanting to pair up with a boy, paired with Lavender Brown. 

Harry saw a redhead boy, so it must be the newest Weasley, snigger to his friend. The brunet’s name was Seamus Finnigan. The two seemed to be pretending to stumble over their words. It took a minute for Harry to figure out what they were doing, but when Harry saw how Neville stood alone, looking down, Harry got angry. How dare they make fun of Neville!

Neville had always been softly spoken, but he was very brave. Harry remembered one time that Bellatrix had dangled Neville out the window by his ankles. He was getting close to eight and still hadn’t done any accidental magic, and she feared that he would be a squib. In an attempt to force some magic out of him, he slipped. Harry remembered the horrified faces of the adults, and aunt Bellatrix’s laugh… as Neville bounced the whole way down the street. Any other person would have cried at that, but the ordeal seemed to have made Neville more confident.

“Wanna be partners, Neville?” Harry said, walking towards his childhood friend. “That potion stuff you mentioned was neat.”

The way Neville looked up hopefully at Harry made him want to punch Ron Weasley even more. “You sure you want to be partners with me, Harry?”

“Of course,” said Harry.

Malfoy, left with either Crabbe, Goyle, or Zabini, chose to pair with Zabini. Crabbe and Goyle had no choice but to pair together. The remaining two girls, Heidi Fawley and Fay Dunbar of Gryffindor also paired up.

“Whoever you paired with will now be your partner for the rest of the year,” Professor Sprout announced happily. “Okay, so grab your supplies and get started! I’ll walk around.”

Malfoy and Zabini looked like they had already started bickering. Harry was amused to see. But at least they were both intelligent enough. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be staring at each other blankly. Ron and Seamus were laughing about something again. Harry ignored them.

He went and grabbed the buckets for the trimmings, the gloves, and shears.

“Thanks,” Neville said quietly when Harry handed his stuff to him.

Harry then took some time to study the Shrivelfig in front of him. It just seemed like a large, purple… fig. It was rather wrinkly on the outside. It grew on a vine that had many branches and leaves on it, and they were starting to point every which way, so… pruning.

Neville put on his gloves with a practiced motion and began snipping at the leaves with his shear. Within moments, the area he snipped at looked a lot neater.

“You’re really good at this, Neville.”

Neville blushed. Each group sat over two meters from each other, since the greenhouse was so big. “Bellatrix is a lot sometimes, so I like spending time in the greenhouses. Rodolphus had had two built just for me.”

“He must really care for you.”

“He does.” Neville blushed again. “Did you know, they can’t-“ Neville’s voice went down to a whisper. “Well, um, it’s not exactly a secret. In the last war, they both got hit by infertility curses.”

“That’s sick, man.” Harry said.

Neville nodded. “I can’t believe my birth parents would fight for a side that used such underhanded tactics.”

It was possibly the longest sentence Harry had ever heard the boy utter. “Yeah.”

“So, I’m used to working with plants,” Neville said.

“How’s Gryffindor?” Harry asked, because he was curious.

“It’s okay…” Neville mumbled.

“Hmm.”

Neville leaned closer to whisper, “I just really didn’t want Slytherin, you know?”

Harry met his eyes and grinned. “I know exactly how you feel.”

Neville smiled back. “So, what house did the sorting hat almost put you in?”

See? Neville was smart. “Hufflepuff.”

Neville laughed. “Um, it considered Hufflepuff for me too. I’d imagine I’d get disowned. Or at least yelled at by Bella.”

“So, Gryffindor is the next best thing?”

Neville shrugged. “It’s still considered, like, an ok house. And I’d like to be more, um, courageous.”

Harry nodded. “I think you’ve very brave, Neville.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Neville said, ducking his head. “I was surprised.”

“By the sorting?”

He shook his head. “Bella’s reaction.”

“She was in the great hall, right?”

“Yeah, Bella said she was happy for me. She said she didn’t like her time in Slytherin that much.”

“Wow.” Harry said. That was surprising.

“Do you want to try pruning now?” Neville asked.

“Sure,” Harry said, taking the shears from Neville. He spotted a few leaves that were starting to dry out and snipped them off the branch.

“That’s good,” Neville said encouragingly when he was done. 

“But the branches I cut look so jagged now.”

“It’ll grow back.”

“How did you get your section to look so neat?”

“Well done boys, done so quickly!” Professor Sprout came around to their station. “Take another two points for Slytherin and Gryffindor, each. Any questions?”

“No, professor Sprout.”

“Okay, just raise your hand if you need me, dears.” Professor Sprout wandered off again. She seemed to be keeping a close eye on Crabbe and Goyle.

“I heard you got detention with the Dark Lord?” Neville asked curiously. “You okay?”

“Yeah, we just have to help Professor Jugson,” Harry said.

Neville nodded. “Bella says that the Dark Lord values magical blood and education. You and Draco are both smart, I knew you’d be fine.”

Harry didn’t know what to say to that. “Thanks for worrying about me, Nev.”

The rest of the double period passed quickly with Neville’s company. Then they walked back to the Great Hall for lunch together. Harry introduced Neville to Theo and Dorea.

* * *

Transfiguration was taught by Professor McGonagall. She made an impression on everyone that she was not someone you wanted to cross. She performed her animagus transformation in front of them. Everyone was gasping and smiling after the cat transformed into their Professor, but it made Harry homesick. He missed Sirius.

Harry felt like there was a little gossip about him going around, because students of other houses would stare at him while he walked past, and he was followed by whispers. He tried his best to ignore them. Malfoy started glaring at anyone that stared too long, but that didn’t stop everyone.

“Malfoy’s jealous cause Harry’s getting all the attention,” Blaise whispered to Parvati as they walked between classes.

Only Harry knew his friend was trying to look out for him.

Theo and Dorea chattered all through dinner, and it passed in a blur. Harry stood up before the others and walked over to Malfoy.

“Out detention starts in fifteen minutes,” Harry said stiffly. He gave his best glare as he said this. They had last fought.

“Fine. Let’s go,” Malfoy said with his own icy stare.

The other children wandering in for dinner parted for them. Harry ignored the whispers. Though they both put on their pureblood masks, Harry could tell Draco was nervous from the slight clench of his fingers.

They walked further from the Great Hall and the sounds of talking faded.

“You know where Professor Jugson’s office is?” Harry asked.

“Of course, idiot.”

Harry bit his tongue. He actually had to hold back his laugh, because this was how they normally talked. When they were being friendly.

Harry wondered at how Draco knew the castle so well. It was their first time here. They’d both only been here for two days, three if counting the sorting. Did Lucius also have a magical map of Hogwarts? Even if he did, Harry doubted he’d show Draco how to use it to play the best pranks and hide from professors after. Harry imaged a stern-faced Lucius saying the things Sirius told him when presenting the map and snorted.

Draco gave him a weird look.

“Something funny, Black?”

“Just your walk,” Harry said.

Draco went red in the face. Harry always laughed at how easy the young Malfoy was provoked.

“You’re an utter ass!” Malfoy yelled. 

“…we’re here,” Harry said.

It was true, they’d arrived in front of Professor Jugson’s office. His office was located at the very end of the third door corridor, opposite of the side being renovated.

“Just- just shut up,” Draco said, raising his hand and knocking on the door.

“Come in.”

They entered the office to find a room larger than they expected. It was about the size of a classroom, and instead of a rectangular room, it was circular. It looked like the inside of a tower, with rough stone walls and a smooth wooden floor. A desk was placed directly across from them and they could see some papers, probably lesson plans, scattered around the desk with multiple inkpots. To the left roared a cozy fireplace with a red rug surrounded by four cushy armchairs. To their right was a large window that gazed out at a green field with a colourful sunset. There was a workbench there, where all sorts of pieces were scattered about. Ancient looking books sat on the bench.

Professor Jugson was standing in the middle of the room, placing a large white cloth over something very large. It was about two inches taller than Professor Jugson, rectangular. He covered it completely before Harry could catch a glimpse.

“Harry Potter-Black and Draco Malfoy,” Professor Jugson said with a smile. He walked up and shook their hands. “I’ve seen you both in class of course, but it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is ours,” Draco said.

How polite could Draco be? Harry felt like there was something to be said about being able to say the word ‘ass’ one minute, then exchange pleasantries the next. It just screamed Malfoy.

“Enchanted,” Harry said. As they shook hands, Harry got a taste of the man’s aura again.

“The dark lord has asked that I take the lead on this project, but it will involve the help of five other professors.”

“To do a renovation?” Draco asked incredulously.

Jugson didn’t say anything. A single look at Draco and the boy looked down. Harry could understand. This professor’s aura was so strong. It was a perhaps equal to Regulus’ or Rodolphus’. Jugson was not a Noble pureblood house, yet this the inner circle.

“I have been given permission to tell you, if I deem it necessary.” The man seemed to pause, as if debating.

“I can keep a secret,” Draco said. “My father-“

“This secret is not like the ones you keep for your father, child. This one will have drastic consequences you will never understand.”

Malfoy frowned, his face turning red. “I’ve kept many secrets that would have drastic effects,” he retorted petulantly.

“And you?” Jugson asked.

“I’d like to know too,” Harry replied.

“Hmph.” Jugson stared at them for a bit, but he seemed to find whatever he had been searching for and said, “do you both promise to never tell a living soul, or leave any evidence of knowing this, in any form?”

“Yes,” Draco said.

“Yes,” Harry said.

“An item of great importance will be kept at the end of the third-floor corridor. We will be enacting seven layers of protection. Professor McGonagall, Professor Dolohov, Professor Snape, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, myself, and the Dark Lord, have each devised a set of obstacles to protect the item.”

“Seven, the number of Merlin,” Harry whispered.

“Yes. Someone has been studying his theory of magic,” Jugson said.

“I have a question,” Harry asked.

“Yes?”

“Why keep it at Hogwarts? There must be a hundred safe places… the Ministry, some remote hideout,”

“Hogwarts is the most secure place in all of Britain. Plus, the Headmaster is here often.”

“Who would even try to steal something of the Dark Lord’s?” Draco said.

Professor Jugson just raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, but why do you need us?”

Professor Jugson laughed. “Well, there are some tasks that need to be done that would be most ardours without magic. Professor Snape suggested that the tasks not go to waste and be given as detention.”

“So, you’re just telling this big secret to _anyone who gets detention_?” Malfoy cried.

“No, I was only given permission to tell you two. I suppose having fathers in the inner circle has it’s perks.”

“What have you been telling the others?” Harry asked curiously.

“Their creating a prison that we’ll lock bad students in.”

Harry and Draco shared a look.

“So do you boys want to see what your task is for tonight?”

They were led to a room that had a pit in it. It was as big as the Curses classroom, about two floors tall, and a pit just as large.

“Your task is to fill the pit with sand. Luckily, you’re allowed to use magic for this task. I’ll teach you the spell.”

Their magical cores were far from developed. Each cast of the spell only summoned about a handful of sand, if at all, and it left them feeling completely drained of magic. When professor Jugson returned at the end of the night to collect them, they’d managed to conjure perhaps two pounds of sand.

“Well, that’s a start,” Professor Jugson remarked as he stared down at the drop of sand in the large pit.

Harry collapsed on his bed when he returned and promptly fell asleep. The familiar dream of knowing occlumency and protecting his mind occurred. Harry smiled at the predictable dream. It always made him feel safe. 


	10. Potions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I took the majority of the potions lesson directly from HP and the philosopher's stone. Please don't sue. It all belongs to JK Rowling.
> 
> Enjoy!

**September 3 rd, Ravenclaw Common Room **

“So, apparently the dark lord asked Harry Potter-Black to stay behind!” Lisa Turpin squealed when she joined the other girls in their favourite couch.

“So what? Professors ask people to stay behind all the time.” Sue Li said, turning back to her book.

“But it’s our _Lord_ and _Harry Potter-Black_!” Lisa squealed again, voice reaching new heights.

“Just tell us, Lisa,” Cho said encouragingly.

“Have you guys not heard the rumor?” Lisa grinned. “Okay let me start from the beginning. Ahem.” Lisa cleared her throat to make sure everyone was on the edge of their seats. “The first time the Dark Lord has ever broken the Dementor Treaty … it was for Harry!”

“I heard the dementor attacked first,” Sue frowned. Though her eyes were still on her book, they didn’t seem to be moving. 

“But it _is_ illegal cast the Patronus. And no one’s been allowed to kill a dementor, it’s against the treaty-”

“I still don’t think that means-” Sue tried to say.

“Then explain why Harry is the only halfblood allowed at Hogwarts.” Lisa said triumphantly. “He came on special permission of the dark lord himself!”

“He’s the heir of two pureblood families. And his blood doesn’t matter now that he’s blood adopted anyways-“

“AND NOW-“ Lisa continued, “he’s asking Harry to stay behind and speak to him alone.”

Sue Li didn’t react, but Cho and Pansy gasped and stared at Lisa like she was .

“The point-“ Lisa continued, “is that the Dark Lord is giving him special treatment.”

“What does that mean?” Cho asked excitedly.

“Maybe the Dark Lord has a special interest in him,” Lisa concluded with a smirk.

“What?”

“Maybe Harry is actually _his_ son.”

“No way.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh my god.”

“We should publish this in Witch Weekly, ‘The Dark Lord’s Secret Weakness’,” Lisa giggled.

Cho and Pansy laughed.

“If you’d like your family to lose control of Witch Weekly,” Sue remarked.

Lisa pouted. “We’d run it past Regulus Black first. I’m not _stupid_.”

Sue sighed.

“Come on, Lisa,” Cho begged. “Tell us more. What else do you know about Harry Potter-Black?”

“Well…”

* * *

History of Magic was easily the most boring class. It may have been because Harry was so tired from last night, but he couldn’t pay attention. For one, Professor Yaxley had a soft, soothing, and monotone voice. Second, he seemed to only read from his prepared notes. Lastly, he stuttered and jumped at the smallest of noises, making it even harder to understand him.

“My dad always said that Yaxley was a powerful unspeakable before he retired to become a teacher,” Draco said as they left the classroom.

“I saw you yawning into your hand when you thought no one was looking,” Blaise remarked.

Draco glared. “I’d like to see you stay up till midnight at detention then pay attention in that class.”

“I so could!”

“Yeah right!”

“Can too!”

“Cannot!”

“Can too!”

“Can-“

“How old are you guys? Three?” Parvati interrupted. “We get off class early today, so I recommend that you and Harry get a nap. We have to be at the astronomy tower at night.”

Harry groaned. He’d forgotten about astronomy. The Dark Lord had given them detention on Tuesday and Thursdays. Since they had astronomy Wednesday nights, Harry was really starting to miss going to bed early.

* * *

Harry stared at the short letter in his hand. His beautiful snowy owl pecked at his fingers until Harry gave her a treat, they flew to the Owlery. Harry recognized the Black seal. He missed Regulus. He wondered how the man was doing. Was Sirius driving him crazy? Was work more difficult?

He knew his father was pretty young, but he already had white hairs. Slowly, Harry unrolled the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_Congratulations on being sorted into Slytherin. Sirius sends his regards. I’m glad to hear that you are getting along well with Theo and Dorea. I must apologize since it’s because of me that you and Draco are at odds. As I am sure you have figured out, it may be safer this way._

_As for the rumor, do not worry. I will deal with it._

_Have fun in school. Study hard._

_Love,_

_Regulus_

That told him—nothing at all. Harry was angry at Regulus suddenly. How come Lucius told Draco everything, and Regulus didn’t share anything with him? Even if the events involved him?

He didn’t know that the attack in Diagon Alley had been a big thing. The incident of a child almost being kissed made headlines in many European countries, not just Britain. Only about four or five years ago had Voldemort successfully gotten Magical Britain recognized by the international magical community as a real government. It had reignited the discussion about how “Dark” Britain was a tyranny under the control of a Dark Lord.

So, if the Dark Lord backed down, renegotiated his Treaty… To the purists, it would seem like the Dark Lord was backing down to the “pressure” of the international community.

Harry’s head started to hurt. He didn’t really understand what was happening. He just knew that something was happening, and he didn’t know anything. He hated it.

_Regulus doesn’t tell you anything, does he?_

He crumpled the letter Regulus sent him and threw it in his trunk.

* * *

Astronomy was taught by a smart witch named Professor Sinstra. She had long dark hair and a slender figure. All the girls gushed about her hair, her face, and everyone thought she was beautiful. Harry paid attention and took notes, copying things down on his star chart. He took turns with Theo to look through their telescopes and tried their best to identify the stars they were supposed to.

After astronomy, Harry yawned and got ready for bed. He was in his pajamas and cozy in bed before he remembered that he had planned to do more homework. It was so comfy, and he was so sleepy.

Dreams of protecting his mind enveloped him. Harry had fallen asleep. 

* * *

Thursday passed quickly for Harry. Without double periods, each class felt short and light.

After dinner, they reported to Professor Jugson who sent them to conjure sand again. This time they reached about two pounds of sand in half the time. When Harry raised his wand again, Draco held up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t you feel magically exhausted?”

Harry shrugged. “Not as much as the first time, you?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Well you don’t have to keep going until you’re exhausted.”

“Are you suggesting…”

“Are you a Slytherin or not?” Draco demanded.

Grinning, Harry abandoned his task too, sitting down on the edge of the pit. His legs dangled off the edge.

Jugson had said that this place was going to hold an important treasure of the Dark Lord. However, it was only starting to be constructed. They always came here and left by portkey, so Harry didn’t know where exactly he was in the maze. 

Harry reached into his robes and pulled out a blank piece of parchment.

Draco watched as he did so.

Harry grinned. “May as well be productive.” He took out another piece of paper and a second self-inking quill. “Want one?”

Draco hesitated, but accepted. He took the paper and the quill and walked all the way to the other side of the pit before sitting down.

That suited him fine. Harry took out a blank piece of paper that looked ancient. He scribbled on the normal piece of parchment he placed on the floor with his right hand. With his left hand, he held his wand and let it touch the old piece of parchment. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he whispered.

A map of Hogwarts slowly appeared on the map. It showed all the hidden passageways and secret rooms. But the most precious use of the map was its ability to tell where people were, real-time. He scanned the map for Jugson and saw that he was in his office. Interestingly, the layout of the third floor corridor was blurry. He saw his name and Draco’s floating around the area, as if unsure where they were.

He found the rest of his classmates all in the Slytherin Common Room. All the other Hogwarts students were in their Common Room or heading to the dormitories for bed now. He saw a few footsteps that belonged to prefects who were patrolling the halls. A Severus Snape was patrolling the dungeons, and a Minerva McGonagall was patrolling the floors above.

A thought struck Harry, and he tried to look for the Dark Lord. Harry carefully checked every name on the map. He did not find him. “Mischief managed,” Harry whispered.

He spent the rest of his time drafting an outline for his History of Magic essay. About a quarter to twelve, they hid their papers and began conjuring sand again. At about midnight Jugson came and pronounced them “having improved somewhat”.

They were sent back to Slytherin Common Rooms where they fell asleep immediately.

* * *

Harry woke up Friday morning feeling better rested than the previous two days. Taking a break during the detention had been the best idea. It was lucky he was feeling more energetic today, as it turned out Potions would take all his patience.

They had no sooner sat down at their tables than Professor Snape swooped in and slammed the classroom door closed.

“Class starts at nine o’clock. If anyone is late for future classes, they may spend it in the hallway. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Professor.”

The Weasley boy took that moment to unwisely whispered to his friend.

“Mr. Weasley,” Snape sneered as he said the name. “Did you have something you wish to share with the class?”

Everyone turned to look at the redhead, and his face became flushed. “N-no.”

“That will be no, sir, to you.”

He looked like he was about to argue, but his friend kicked him under the table.

“No, _sir_.”

“And five points from Gryffindor.”

Snape swept to the front of the classroom and towered over them. 

“There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don’t expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few…” his eyes swept the room, and he seemed to settle on Draco. “Who possess, the predisposition… I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death.”

Harry thought that their potions professor certainly had a way with words. Not wanting to doze off in another class, Harry began diligently writing things down. “Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not pay attention!”

Harry was startled by the rise in volume, and finally looked up. While he was busy writing, Snape has somehow made his way over to his desk, hovering above him. 

“Mister Potter-Black. Our new celebrity,” Snape sneered.

Harry flushed, a complete red shade like a tomato. He had been trying to ignore the rumors and whispers for days, but it did bother him, a little. He thought it was the _tone_ Professor Snape seemed to use, it just made something about it so bad.

He couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

"Potter-Black! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry blinked, staring at his hands blankly. A what to what?

“I don’t have all day.”

Harry remembered reading a Greek Myth when he was younger. In that story, the underworld had a section called the Field of Asphodel, which was carpeted by asphodel flowers. “Something… deathy?” Harry guessed.

Professor Snape continued to sneer at him, but there was something that flashed in his eyes. Harry wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t looked up just to see his reaction to his answer. He likely wouldn’t have been able to read it unless he had so much practice trying to read Regulus.

“Tell me, what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfbane?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Harry said.

“Clearly, fame isn’t everything. Tell me, where would I find a bezoar?”

“Um, at an apothecary?” Harry said. Beside him, Theo made a sound that was suspiciously like a laugh that quickly turned into a hacking cough. Harry turned and patted his friend on the back. 

“For your information, asphodel and wormwood results in a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. Monkswood and wolfsbane are the same plant, which goes by the name of aconite. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and will cure most poisons. Well? Why aren’t you all copying that down?”

Luckily, Snape wandered away after that, and Theo recovered.

“Isn’t he awesome?” Theo asked.

Harry tried not to look at his friend incredulously.

“Bottle fame, brew glory… we’re gonna learn that in this class!”

Harry nodded at his friend. He thought that personally he was going to be very happy whenever this class ended. Theo remained oblivious to Harry’s mood as the boy listened attentively to every word Snape spoke.

Things didn’t improve as the potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple cure for boils. He swept around in his long, black cloak and criticized almost everyone except Draco, who he seemed to like.

Harry knew when to keep his head down. Theo, true to his excitement, was good at potions. Luckily, it was a simple potion anyways, and Harry had no trouble with it either. They made a result that was decidedly above average that Harry relaxed, thinking that Snape would not be able to find fault. The class was almost over, and Harry thought happily of the week he could be away from the man. 

He was just placing the cork on his potion when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Lavender Brown’s cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was sweeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people’s shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, whimpered in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

“Idi-” snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. “I suppose you added porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?”

Neville cried as boils started to pop all over his nose.

“Take him up to the hospital wing,” Snape snapped at Lavender. Then he rounded on Seamus Finnigan and Ronald Weasley, who had been working beside Neville.

“Why didn’t you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he’d make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? Two points from Gryffindor.” Weasley opened his mouth to argue, but Finnigan kicked him from behind their cauldron. Snape then rounded on Harry and Theo, who were working beside Neville on the other side. “You- Potter-Black- why didn’t you say anything? Perhaps you think he’d make it look good if he got it wrong?”

Theo kicked him, but Harry thought it was so unfair, he had to open his mouth. “I was focusing on my work. Perhaps it’s _you_ , _Professor_ , that should have notice and said something.”

“Detention, Potter-Black,” Snape snarled, “with Professor Jugson tonight.”

Harry looked down and bit his tongue. He resented the implication that he would ever harm Neville.

“Don’t push it,” Theo muttered. “I’ve heard Snape can turn really nasty.”

“Isn’t he supposed to favor Slytherins?” Harry fumed back.

“Well, he’s still not taken a single house point…” Theo pointed out.

“Great.” Harry glared at the desk in front of him. “Thanks. Fat lot of good that does.”

“I’ll take our potion up for grading,” Theo said.

As they climbed out of the steps of the dungeon an hour later, Harry was still angry. “You guys go ahead,” Harry said. “I’m going to check on Neville.”

Dorea and Theo said reassuring things that Harry didn’t really hear.

Before going to the hospital wing, Harry went back downstairs and tickled the pear in a fruit painting. The painting turned into a door that opened into a bustling kitchen.

“Oh, a student! Young master, how can we help you?” A beaming house elf skipped over to him.

“Can I have lunch for two to go, and some Treacle Tart too?”

“Right aways, young sir!”

Soon, two thin cardboard boxes stuffed full of food was presented to him, and he profusely thanked the elves. They cried and laughed and welcomed him to come back often.

Then Harry went up the steps and took a convenient secret passageway that led him straight to the hospital wing. He didn’t want to run into anyone and start more gossip. All the chatter was starting to get to him.

Harry had the presence of mind to hide his goodies in his expandable-charmed bag before entering. Luckily, the healer on duty was taking her lunch break so no one stopped Harry from walking into the Hospital wing and making a beeline for Neville.

Neville had been completely healed already. His face was as good as new, but there was a sheen of some kind of cream that had recently been placed on him. He smelled strongly of mint.

“Harry!” He smiled when he saw Harry appear.

“How are you? I just wanted you to know, I didn’t notice, otherwise I would have said something.”

“I know, Harry. Of course,” Neville frowned, like he wasn’t sure why Harry would even think that. “I’m sorry about the... um, spill.”

“Oh, it’s okay, Nev.”

Harry looked at Neville, who looked even more scared than normal. He seemed to be shaking slightly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah!” Neville said, his voice an octave too high.

Harry raised an eyebrow. Neville looked like he was debating whether he should say anything.

“Here, I brought you some food,” Harry said, pulling out the boxes he had kept in his expandable pouch. Harry grinned at the look on Neville’s face.

Neville started eating in obvious enjoyment. Harry took a seat on the chair beside the bed and ate too. Food in one of these takeout boxes somehow tasted better than the food in the Great Hall. They sat quietly for a few minutes.

“Professor Snape scares me so much,” Neville admitted quietly.

Harry stopped eating, in the middle of a bite. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Nev, but you live with Aunt Bella.”

“Bella is sweet!” Neville defended. “Under all that, she’s really sweet. Professor Snape is…” Neville shuddered. 

“At least we only have him once a week.”

Neville nodded.

“Want a treacle tart?”

“Yes, please.”

Harry grinned as he handed one to Neville. They were still hot, bless the elves. As he sat and ate good food with his friend, he felt the anger that he had felt slowly leave him. There. Now he was ready for his other classes.

* * *

Charms was a lighthearted class where everyone fooled around. They had another class where they just tried to cast a new spell. Flitwick was very easy going, and he laughed kindly when they made a mistake and laughed loudly when they got something right. Everyone was in a good mood by the end of it. 

_Dear Sirius,_

_I hope you are well. I’m sure you’ve seen the letter I sent Regulus, so you know I’ve been sorted into Slytherin. Do not worry, in true Gryffindor fashion, I got into a fight with Draco on my first day and got detention. The detention is fine. I just have to continuously summon sand, which is tiring and boring, but not horrible._

_Other than to reassure you that I have some of you in me, I have a question for you. I looked at the paper you gave me. Except one section appears blurry. Do you know what could cause that?_

_Sincerely,_

_Harry_

_P.S. Do you or Regulus know a Severus Snape? I’m not sure what I’ve done to offend him so early, but I get the feeling he hates my guts._

_P.P.S. The rumors are getting worse, not better._

Harry felt a lot better now that he’d written his thoughts down. If Regulus was going to keep everything to himself, perhaps Sirius would tell him.

* * *

A circle of black robed wizards and wizards bowed and began apparating away at the dismissal. Black forms dematerialized into insubstantial shadows, making the ballroom emptier and emptier.

“Jugson,” the handsome brunette with red eyes and an overwhelming magical aura said. “Remain.”

“My lord,” Jugson said, falling to his knees.

“Report on your progress with the third-floor corridor.” The dark lord spoke without enunciation, as if he was talking about the weather. But the shadows around his face seemed to gather. Jugson was aware that he was the only professor who had yet to submit a blueprint. But that was because his plan had been too ambitious. He now wanted to change it... 

"Before, I had decided to create a room full of trap portkeys, since bending space is my specialty." He said quickly, "But-"

"All professors have finalized their blueprints, Jugson. If you are the only one unable to finish, I can ask another to do this task." 

"No, no, my lord," Jugson hastily begged. "Please, it is an honour to design a room. And it's taken so long because I've been testing portkeys in Hogwarts, to see how the wards affect the fields and arithmetic. I just got a new idea..." 

The dark lord took a step towards him when he stopped speaking. The man hastily continued. 

“I recently happened upon the Mirror or Erised. I can design it so that only someone who wishes to give the item, unharmed, to you will be able to acquire it. So, any Light traitors who wish to steal it will be unable to proceed.”

Jugson tried to slow his breathing as he stared at the dark robes in front of him. 

“… very well, Jugson.”

“So I should go forward with the mirror, my lord?” The man looked up hesitantly, as if afraid that he would be punished for looking. The pallid face held no emotion. Jugson looked down again. 

“You may incorporate both." 

Jugson almost gasped. Well, that would be the last time he would try to impress the dark lord. It had taken him weeks to test his portkey theory to make sure that may portkeys in close proximity (one small room) would still work, and that it would work in Hogwarts. He had felt like it was a bit difficult to design that many portkeys whose magic fields didn't interfere. Thus, he had turned to the mirror of erised, so he wouldn't have to do those calculations. But now, the dark lord wanted him to make a room with both! He suddenly had a feeling of picking up a stone and hitting his own foot. 

Seeing as the dark lord was looking at him, he quickly said, "Yes, my lord." 

Jugson stood up to leave, but the dark lord's comment made him stop. 

"The mirror..." the dark lord said, "Your creativity in this matter is much appreciated." 

Jugson's eyes widened, and he bowed. "Thank you, my lord!" 


	11. Tea, Exploring, and Brooms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG THANKS to my real-life friend, Lady_Panthea, for listening to my plot rambles!!!
> 
> Thanks to YellowGladiolus17 for giving me the idea for Harry to seal his letters. Thanks to everyone who's left a comment!!! I've replied to most of them, and if I haven't, I'll get to you soon! I really appreciate the feedback, and that's what motivates me to keep writing this. Srsly!
> 
> WARNING!!! There's some blood. And injury. It's not very graphic. Let me know if I should tag it or put more warnings! I'm new to this. :)

“Do you know the real reason Lucius was demoted?” Bellatrix whispered to Regulus at Black Family tea on Sunday.

Grimmauld Place was as grand as ever. The ancestral Black home fairly shone. Today the small sitting room was opened up for family. Regulus’ schedule was filled with meetings, but Black Family tea was a monthly tradition as old as any of them could remember. Upholding traditions like this was essential. Regulus had been looking forward to it, honestly, so he could speak with Bellatrix.

It was called Black Family tea, but Narcissa had declined, saying she felt unwell. Rodolphus was busy with work. So, Bellatrix had come to Grimmauld Place alone. 

“Lucius was demoted because he failed to control the dementors,” Regulus replied. “Harry, the Black Heir, almost died, so the Dark Lord needs to demote him to show that he cares for young children.”

“Pff. Sure, but that’s what the Dark Lord wants people to think.” Bellatrix was wearing a form-fitting black robe today, she leaned forward in her chair so their heads were almost touching. Her eyes danced as Regulus’ curiosity.

“Then why, Bella?”

“The day the dementor got free, Horace Slughorn escaped from house arrest.”

Regulus’ eyes widened. He was pretty good at hiding his reactions, but this news! It wouldn’t have mattered if he hid his reaction, because even an idiot would realize that he was surprised.

“They caught him, surely.” Regulus said. The old potions professor was famous for being a social climber and had been completely neutral in the last war. His pureblood name and his contacts had net him a pleasant place in their circles, even in retirement. But somehow he displeased the Dark Lord. No one quite knew why, but it was rumored to be related to the fact that the man had taught the Dark Lord himself, when he had still been a boy. Slughorn had been placed under house arrest ever since. Top security. No one but the inner circle even knew about this.

Regulus had always wondered why their lord had not killed the man. Was it because the man had taught him, and he felt indebted?

“The Light rebels had over forty heavily armed duellers. They lost over ten people. But they managed to portkey Slughorn to the US.”

“Forty!”

“It’s all their forces. Every single one.”

“Did we trace them?” Regulus asked.

“They would have five more portkeys waiting on the other side, each doing to a different place. We could trace it, if Magical America allowed our forces to move about freely in America. But you know how Magical America is. Pain in the arse.”

“Hmm. Yes.” Regulus knew.

“Unauthorized movement of our aurors on that side could be counted as an act of war, so we couldn’t trace further.”

“This news is hush-hush. Rodolphus has been working day and night to patch this up.”

“Thanks for telling me, Bella dear. Is Rodolphus alright?”

A figure dropped out of the floo right as Regulus spoke.

“I’m alive,” the brunette said, wiping off the floo dust.

Bella waved and held out a hand for her husband. “Rodo,” she grinned. The man stood easily and placed an arm around his wife.

“Hello, beautiful.” He placed a peck of her cheek. “And Regulus.”

“Want to have a seat? You look like you’re about to fall down.”

The three of them took seats around the circular table.

“Thanks,” Rodolphus said, drinking a big cup of tea in one gulp. He ate a biscuit before continuing. “You know how it is. The Dark Lord wants the evidence of the attack to use at the next International Confederation of Wizards meeting. Even if we can’t force the Americans to capture the Light rebels and hand them over, at least they will stop _helping_ them.”

“How’s that going?”

“I’ve looked at the guard’s memories. Everyone’s face was obscured, but I’m one hundred percent sure it was Dumbledore himself that led it. No one else could have that kind of spell power and skill.” He sighed. “But I can’t find one trace of anyone’s magical signature. It’s like he wiped the place clean.”

“I’ve never heard of magic that could do that…”

“Light magic. The illegal stuff.” Rodolphus grimaced. “Memories can be fabricated so the ICW will not take that.”

“That sucks.”

“I would give anything to find the evidence. Knock that old coot from his position on the ICW. Honourable Representative Dumbledore, my ass.”

“At least he’s not Supreme Mugwump anymore,” Regulus said. 

“Don’t remind me.”

“Something doesn’t make sense.” Regulus said suddenly.

“Magical America just hates us from the times of the revolutionary war. Plus, they don’t even care if they sir up trouble for our country- probably gives them more room to-“

“No, I mean, why would the Light use all their resources on someone like Horace Slughorn?”

Rodolphus frowned. He had never thought about this.

“They want a potions master?”

“There are potion masters in America.”

“None that the Light rebels can afford.” 

“True.” Regulus kept his thoughts to himself. He changed the subject. “Have there been any raids since then?”

“No. Not a peep.”

Regulus nodded. “How are Neville and Harry at Hogwarts, Bella?”

“Neville is too kind,” Bellatrix said without a beat. “I don’t know where he gets it from. I struggle to refrain from cursing the Gryffindor boys to the point I have to avoid them altogether.”

Regulus hid a grin. Rodolphus suddenly started coughing into his fist. 

“Harry is doing ok. But even Draco understands that the dark lord used your name to deal blows to Lucuius because he wants your alliance to shatter. Draco has then very smartly, at least for appearances, turned against Harry.”

“Draco is a child. He can do nothing.”

“He’s certainly not quieting the rumors! I’m certain he’s working on gaining alliances. He’s not that smart, Reg. I mean, he’s only eleven. Lucius is guiding him.” 

Regulus sipped his tea and said nothing.

Bellatrix was getting more and more frustrated. It showed on her face.

“Reg, you have to do something about Lucius!” She exploded.

“Do what?” Regulus asked, his face impassive. 

“The dark lord used your name to reduce Lucuis’ influence. Everyone sees the way the wind blows, and turn away from him and towards you. In order to stop this, Lucius has to deal a blow to you.”

“I can handle it,” Regulus said. There had been that affair about the Parkinsons and the beginnings of a legal case that had all smelt of Lucius. They had worked together for so long that he could identify the man’s strategies a mile away.

“Can Harry?”

Regulus paused slightly. He put his teacup down. “Lucuis loves Draco. He would not involve Harry.” Regulus thought that their heirs were the bottom line for both of them. It was politics, not personal.

“Who do you think is propagating those rumors?”

Regulus continued to sip tea. “It started with the French and American press.”

“Yes, but who is continuing to feed it?” Bellatrix asked.

Regulus stayed silent. It was a rhetorical question.

“Though being a favourite of the dark lord is a good thing, not actually being a favourite but having the fame of one is not. How many eyes does Harry have on him already? How many people will hate him for it, be jealous of him, or are simply curious and wish to test him?”

“I have been using my resources to stop the rumors. But I cannot stop people from simply talking.”

Regulus had thought about other ways. He could tell Harry how to act, probably like how Lucius was guiding Draco. A fall from grace would be the quickest way to get out of the limelight. Harry could pretend to mess up. He could do poorly in his studies, stay under the radar, and the attention would fade. He could pretend to be weak and train in secret. But he worried about the psychological effects of wearing a mask for so long. He worried about the social disconnect that Harry would experience. 

“What will come, will come.” Regulus said finally. “Being a Black already paints a target on his back that says, ‘I am special’. So what’s a little more? This will be a good opportunity for him to exercise.”

“Ridiculous,” Bellatrix said. She turned to her husband, who had stayed silent.

“I am with Regulus. Harry can handle it. Like how Neville can handle Gryffindor. How will they grow if we shield them form everything?”

Bellatrix huffed.

Regulus poured Bellatrix a cup of tea. “I appreciate your concern. I feel the same way in your shoes. Even though I have decided to not directly interfere… please keep an eye on him. You’re the only one at Hogwarts…”

“Of course,” Bellatrix glared at him. _No thanks to you_.

“Thank you.”

* * *

“OMG did you hear? Harry Potter got detention, again!” Lisa Turpin, Gossip Queen, held audience with her court in the Ravenclaw common room.

“What?” Cho gasped.

“Yeah, he annoyed Snape in potions.”

“No way, I heard Snape never gives detention to Slytherins,” Sue Li frowned.

“Wow, I wonder what he did…” Pansy chimed in.

* * *

**Friday Dinnertime, Great Hall**

“I can’t believe you have detention again,” Dorea said looking at Harry sympathetically.

Harry shrugged, trying to ignore the odd stare he got from other students. Now that the first week was over, Harry realized how behind he was on his homework.

“Have you guys done the readings for Curses and Countercurses yet?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, mate,” said Theo.

“Why?” asked Dorea.

“With detention Tuesdays and Thursdays, I haven’t started.” It was only the first week of school and Harry already felt like he was falling behind. “I’m not going to have much time for homework.”

“That sucks, mate,” Theo said.

“I’d better get going, I guess,” Harry said. He still felt a bit angry at Snape. The professor had something against him, that was for sure. When he thought about it, even before Neville had melted his cauldron, the man had singled him out and humiliated him. This was pretty strange, since Harry had only seen the man a few times.

He had thought all afternoon about it, and he finally figured it out.

Severus Snape was Draco Malfoy’s godfather.

This fact had almost slipped his mind because Snape was a very private person. Other than the social gatherings he had to attend, he kept to himself.

In fact, the first day, when he and Draco had almost duelled, Snape had shown up and gave him detention. If Aunt Bella had not interfered, he would have been in trouble and Draco would have got off with nothing.

So, if the Malfoys and the Blacks were now fighting, Snape would be someone considered solidly on the Malfoy’s side.

Harry felt his frustration lessen after figuring all that out. It wasn’t personal. As long as he reminded himself of this, he could tough it out.

At least they only had potions once a week. He could avoid the man. And if he stayed quiet in class and didn’t break any rules, there was little Snape could do to him. With this plan, Harry felt a lot better. 

This time, on Friday evening, he knocked on Professor Jugson’s door alone. The man opened the door and waved him towards the book the acted as the portkey.

Harry stared at the large mirror in the center of his office. It was golden and adorned with fancy looking jewels. It was facing away from him, so he couldn’t see what it was reflecting.

_So that’s what was under that white cloth last time!_

Seeing the direction of his gaze, Professor Jugson quickly covered the mirror with a large sheet.

“Thanks,” Harry said, as he picked up the book and ported away.

What was the point of having a portkey to just arrive down the hallway? Harry always thought that was dumb. He could just walk down the hallway to this room. Unless, they didn’t want people to know this was also the third floor?

No, Jugson told him outright this was the third floor.

Maybe there were other rooms?

Suddenly, Harry perked up. He began to get excited.

It was Friday night, and here he was again, conjuring sand in this room. It was mind-numbingly boring, and it left him drained mentally and magically. Maybe he had found a way to alleviate his boredom.

Checking left and right, Harry brought out the Maurader’s map.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he whispered.

It was a beautiful September day, and it seems most people were enjoying an evening outside. He saw piles of students around the lake or by the pumpkin patch. Professor Jugson was still in his office. Interestingly, he wasn’t at the sides of the room where there were tables and workstations- Jugson was standing in the middle. The man was ogling his reflection in the pretty mirror? Why would he... Maybe he was trying on different outfits?

Harry laughed as his mind conjured an image of Professor Jugson wearing different types of clothing and staring strictly at himself in the mirror.

He checked again, and other than Jugson, there was no one else on this floor.

Since Harry always came here by portkey, he had never seen any of the other rooms. This time, he made his way to the only door in the room. Slowly, he turned the knob, and the door opened inwards.

One the other side was a circular room. It felt like he was inside a tower. The stone walls felt like they were humming with magical energy. There was a pedestal in the center. Each of the room’s sides had another door of the same size and shape of the one he had left. Some kind of instinct had Harry immediately turn and try to stick his foot in the door he had just left. But he was too slow. The door slammed shut behind him.

He immediately pushed at the door, trying to open it. There was no door handle on this side. It didn’t budge.

Harry took a few steps back and ran at it, pushing hard. The entire room shook. Harry took a few steps back in shock.

He then pinched himself, because it looked like he was hallucinating. The doors had began to spin. Or more accurately, the room was spinning. The doors on all sides of the circular room spun until they were a blur, then ten seconds later, everything stopped.

Harry quickly pulled out the map. Yep, there he was, a floating dot over a blurry area of the third floor corridor. There was still no one else on this floor. He slowly let out a breath.

He stared at the doors. He turned back and stared at the pedestal at the center of the room.

“Well here goes nothing,” he said.

He picked the door in front of him and pushed. This time, it opened inwards.

Inside was a small, empty room. All it had was a small table in the center. On that table were seven vials. Harry recognized them as the kinds used to hold fancy potions. This must be the room Snape was designing. Thinking that there could not be anything good about a room having to do with Snape, much less designed by the man, Harry quickly left.

The rooms spun again after Harry closed the door behind him.

The next room he entered made him gasp. He entered a room as large as the pit of sand. It had been completely transfigured to be a chessboard, with chess pieces three times his size. As he entered, the chess pieces turned to face him. Though they didn’t have eyes, Harry could feel their gazes on him.

“I’ll just- leave now.”

He slammed the door shut after him as his heart hammered in his chest.

The next two rooms he opened were empty, but the third one was pitch black. Harry didn’t even wait to step into that room before slamming the door shut. He thought he saw the black floor reaching out a tentacle to drag him back in.

There was a room filled with feathers. There was a room that had three strawmen. It gave off a creepy vibe.

After opening about twenty doors, most of them repeats, Harry finally found the room with the pit again. He sighed in relief and sat down on the edge. Well that was an interesting mechanism for keeping intruders out. Tire them out by having them repeatedly walk through dangerous rooms. Harry shuddered.

Time to start conjuring more sand for Jugson before his detention was up.

He couldn’t help but glance at the map- the man was still in the middle of the room! He must really like his reflection.

After Professor Jugson came to release him, Harry crawled into bed. He fell asleep to the familiar dream. Strong walls were erected around his mind, and he dreamed that he was safe and protected.

* * *

Saturday morning Harry stretched, feeling absolutely content. What a week! It was finally the weekend!

He had been so busy with classes, generally avoiding gossiping students, and detention, he’d almost forgotten why he was at Hogwarts. To learn magic, of course! He couldn’t learn occlumency, or how to cast a patronus, but he could certainly learn transfiguration, charms, and curses.

He had planned to ask Theo and Dorea if they wanted to go to the library to study, but when he arrived at breakfast, Dorea had already finished eating. 

Dorea smiled and waved at him and Theo.

“I’m going to Slytherin Girls Club. Bye boys!”

Parvati giggled as she dragged Dorea away, and even Millicent was following them.

“The what club?” Harry asked.

“The Slytherin Girls Club.” Theo made a face. “No idea what they do. You have to be a girl to join though.”

“Their club meets Saturday mornings?” Harry grabbed some toast and began slathering on jam.

“Most of the Slytherin clubs do,” Theo nodded. He continued to shovel food into his mouth at an alarming rate. Harry merely averted his eyes. Even if Theo was self-proclaimed raised by house elves, surely he had been fed?

With no surprise, Theo finished eating really quickly. He then stared at Harry. Harry continued to eat his sandwich.

“Can you eat a little faster?” Theo said. “We’re gonna be late to etiquette club.”

“The what?” Harry echoed.

“Don’t tell me your dad didn’t sign you up for it? Didn’t you look at the announcement board?”

Slytherin wasn’t like other houses with only gobblestones and exploding snap clubs.

Harry vaguely remembered something like that being mentioned the first day. But he had forgotten. He wasn’t very interested in etiquette lessons. He had a tutor teach him the proper stuff a year ago, and that was enough.

Plus, Harry had a pile of homework. He had lost four out of the five nights he was here. He was at Hogwarts to learn magic, not to play at having tea with people like Draco Malfoy.

“Oh yeah,” Harry replied to a Theo that was still waiting for his answer. “You go ahead, I don’t think I’m going.”

Theo’s face fell.

“My dad signed me up for it. I have to go,” the blonde said miserably.

“Go ahead, it’s ok.”

“If you don’t go, I’ll have to partner with Draco, Blaise, or Crabbe,” Theo explained with a pleading look.

“No Goyle?” Harry wondered.

“His application still has to be approved.”

“What?”

“There’s a wait-list. My dad signed me up. I bet their families signed them up too-“ 

“Then have fun.”

“You should really sign up too! Everyone important is there!”

“I want to stay away from people,” Harry said. “I have had enough attention this week.”

Theo looked like he wanted to argue, but Harry waved. “I’ve missed four out of the five days we’ve been here, and I haven’t done any homework. I’ll be catching up on homework in the library!”

Theo looked rather resentfully at Harry, but apparently he was more afraid of being late, and he quickly ran off.

* * *

It was afternoon, and Harry was feeling quite proud of his accomplishments. He’d finished the readings for transfiguration and charms.

Dorea had finished Girls Club and had come to find him in the library.

She took a look at the essay in his hands and giggled.

“What’s that?” she pointed.

“My essay for curses,” Harry said.

“Bonds with Wands?” Dorea laughed.

“That’s the topic!” Harry defended.

“It rhymes!”

Harry glared at her, but his lips twitched. He gave up and laughed too.

“What should I call it? Wand bonds? Your relationship with your wand? Bonding with your stick?”

Dorea giggled. “Maybe not the last one.”

* * *

Later that day he received a reply from home. This letter was sealed with the Black seal, so Harry had to press his heir ring against the letter before it would pop open. It was a long parchment, with the rushed writing of Sirius.

_Dear Harry,_

_Since when do I have to be reassured that you’re like me?_

_I know I was a Gryffindor, but you are not, and I wouldn’t have you any other way._

_I heard from Bella that you guys didn’t even manage to cast a single spell. Some fight you got into, by the way. Now, I’m not asking you to get into a real fight. In fact, I said no pranks till third year, and I mean it. You want to stay out of the spotlight right now. I heard those rumors. Reg says to just do you and try to ignore them. It might not even be a bad thing, since you’re bound to have lots of attention anyways._

_And as for your detention of conjuring sand – who got rid of the good ol’ chopping toad liver or cleaning the trophies? Conjuring not hard, but it’s magically exhausting… which feels terrible. Ok so Reg wanted me to add that using your magic more could help your core development… whatever._

_As for the blurry paper, distortions in space is what would cause that. Like an expandable charm, a portal, or something that is constantly moving. Regulus wants me to add that you should avoid the blurry area- write your own letter Regulus!_

_Ok so about Snape, I thought he’d let this go, seriously. Snape was James and I’s archnemesis in school. He probably holds a grudge. You look like a nice mix of James and Regulus, and by extention, me, so I’m not surprised if he’s mean. Snape is also Draco’s godfather, so if you’re beating up Draco in public, he may also hate you cause of that._

_Just ignore him! Don’t take it personally!_

_Let me know if he’s too much, we can always sic Bella on him. (I voted to do this anyways, but Regulus says that we need to give you a chance to deal with it yourself and he should really just write his own letter, don’t you think?)_

_Cheers,_

_Sirius_

_P.S. Press your ring into the wax seal of letters you send. It’s not foolproof, but better than nothing!_

Harry blinked. He’d forgotten about the ability of his ring. The letter basically confirmed what he had thought. So basically, he should keep his head down and focus on classes. That was what he had planned on doing anyways.

He stared at the letter and his lips twitched at all the places Regulus had inserted comments.

* * *

The next week passed quickly, Harry was falling into a nice pattern of school, homework, chill in the common room, and detention. Harry and Draco continued to work for half their detention and do homework for the other half. Draco moved to the far side and didn’t speak to Harry, which was fine by him. So far, Jugson hadn’t caught on.

It was suddenly October, and Harry and Draco had finished all their detentions. One morning Harry entered the common room to a huge hubbub. Everyone was crowded around the notice board.

“Flying lessons!”

“Who’s teaching?”

“Ludo Bagman!”

“That fat, retired beater?”

“Ew, I thought all our teachers were experts!”

“Bagman is a Noble House,” someone sniffed. “They also made the donations that allowed them to replace all the school brooms.”

“What broom you’re on is more important than who teaches you, trust me.” An upper year explained.

“And if you get on the school team, we’ll train you properly,” a guy grinned.

“Harry!” Theo waved at him excitedly. “Our first flying lessons!”

“Hey Theo,”

“Aren’t you excited?”

Harry grinned. “Of course.” He didn’t want to tell the boy he had been flying on a broom since he was six, and apparently even younger than that if Sirius was to be believed. Whenever they went to the Manor in the mountains of Germany, Harry would go flying with Sirius. They would have some of their best weekends there.

“I don’t need flying lessons,” Draco scoffed. “I’ve been flying on a broom since I was born.”

Zabini and Malfoy began to bicker.

* * *

Flying lessons was predictably with the Gryffindors.

They arrived on the quidditch pitch nice and early. The brooms had been laid out evenly on the ground.

“Hello students,” Professor Hooch shouted. An elderly witch she had short spiky silver hair, but she moved with energy. It was plain that she worked out. “I am Professor Hooch, the quidditch instructor, and your flying instructor. Please each stand beside a broom. Slytherins on this side, Gryffindors on this side.”

The students moved to take their places. Dorea was vibrating in her shoes.

“How many of you have ridden a broom before?”

Harry, Draco, Blaise, Dorea, and Ron Weasley raised their hands.

“Alright. Place your hand above your broom like so,” and the professor demonstrated, “then say up!”

“Up!” Twenty students shouted.

Draco and Harry’s brooms flew immediately into their hands. Blaise got it on his second try. Dorea’s did a roll.

“You have to will it! Put your strength into it!” Madame Hooch shouted.

“Up!” Dorea’s broom flew into her hand. Theodore’s did a few rolls, but eventually, it flew into his hand too. Within the next five minutes, everyone got their broom without a problem.

“Alright. Now mount the broom and gently kick off. Gently now, hover low- Longbottom-Lestrange, get down here, now! Stop!”

Neville had been so scared that he would be left on the ground, he had given a rather large push. He started rising at an alarming rate and couldn’t stop.

“Everyone stay on the ground!”

Madame Hooch flew her broom until she was next to him, trying to grab him.

With a scared scream, Neville suddenly slipped off his broom and fell towards the ground. Madame Hooch managed to grab his laple and pull, slightly slowing the descent, but they both landed on the ground in a heap.

“Are you alright?”

“Ow, my ankle…” Neville moaned. His face was pale as snow.

“Just a twisted ankle. It could have been worse,” she said. “Now, I’m taking Mr. Longbottom-Lestrange to the Hospital Wing. You are all to remain on the ground and wait for me to come back. If any of you fly, you’ll be expelled faster than you can say ‘Quidditch’!”

Madame Hooch conjured a stretcher and levitated Neville onto it.

“Did you see his face?” Weasley and his friend were laughing quietly the moment Madame Hooch disappeared.

Harry turned and glared at him. “He could have been seriously hurt.”

Weasley glared at him but didn’t say anything.

Meanwhile, Draco and Blaise were still bickering.

“I’ve been on a broom since I was six,” Draco was saying. “I can catch almost anything.”

“My family owns the largest quidditch training field in the world. It used to belong to the Bulgarian Team, and I get to go there to practice every summer. There’s no way you’re better than me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Why don’t you get on your broom and prove it?”

“I will!”

“Hey,” Harry tried to say. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What, think you’re better than us?” Blaise retorted.

Harry didn’t say anything. He’d been flying since he was a baby according to Sirius, and they often went to the large Germany Black Mansion to fly. It was one of Sirius’ favourite things to do. Apparently, something of this showed on his face, for Blaise got red in the face.

“Then let’s have a competition now! I’ll throw this ball, and we’ll see who can catch it first!” Blaise brought out a golf ball, clearly the type used to simulate the snitch. It looked well-worn, something that Blaise had practiced with and worn down with use.

“What,” Draco said, “too scared?”

“Fine,” Harry said.

“Are you guys crazy?” Theo interrupted. “You’ll get expelled!”

“It’ll take her at least fifteen minutes to get to the hospital wing and back, that’s without considering the need to settle Neville,” Draco said. “And would they really expel us?”

Theo looked on helplessly.

“It’ll be fine, Theo,” Dorea reassured. “Maybe they’ll finally shut up after this,” Dorea muttered. 

“I heard that,” Blaise told her.

“You were meant to,” she said, sticking her tongue out. “I’ll throw the ball, if you’d like.”

“I bet I could catch it before all of you,” the three boys and Dorea turned to look at none other than Ron Weasley.

“Piss off, Weasley,” Zabini retorted.

“What? Scared that I’ll be better than you, arrogant scions?”

“Oh you’re on!” Blaise yelled. “Let’s go!”

Dorea, Harry, Draco, Blaise, and Weasley rose up into the air. Dorea flew up a little higher.

“Ready, set, go!” Dorea threw the golf ball as hard as she could.

The small ball had very little air resistance and flew quite far. Harry leaned forward on his broom to urge it faster. He saw in his periphery shapes that meant the other boys did the same.

The ball had reached its peak and had begun falling part of its flight.

Blaise and Weasley began falling behind, their bigger frames slowing their flight.

Draco and Harry were neck in neck as they angled their brooms downwards for the prize. Harry extended his hand out and almost caught it, but Draco knocked his hand away.

They both had their hands outstretched and were almost touching in their attempts to catch it. He angled his broom downwards, gravity increasing his speed, there! The ground approached at an alarmingly fast rate. He angled his broom horizontal at the last minute, his toes brushing the grass, then toppled gently off his broom.

There was a crash beside him as Draco failed to do the same.

“Draco?” Harry cried, horrified. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene in front of him. Harry didn't move from his spot where he was sprawled on the grass. Blood was running across the grass and seeping into the dirt. Harry couldn't stop looking at where the broomstick had broken in half and he could make out the shape of a certain Blonde who's limbs were in an unnatural position and then Harry felt his stomach really churning, as if it was trying to empty itself. 

“HARRY POTTER-BLACK!”

Madame Hooch had spotted his maneuver and streaked over on her broom.

“What kind of idiotic notion possessed you,” she screamed.

“Draco’s hurt!” Harry cried.

“You were lucky I was able to cushion Mr. Malfoy’s fall, otherwise he could have died!” Madame Hooch yelled. “Idiotic, irresponsible, absolutely reckless!” As she yelled, she levitated Draco, who Harry could see was heavily bruised in the face and bleeding in places that the black school robes mostly covered. 

Her shouts had attracted the attention of people in the castle, and a familiar man with a billowing black cape stalked towards them. Beside him was Professor McGonagall.

“What is going on?” Professor Snape demanded.

Madame Hooch explained that she had been escorting Neville. Luckily, she ran into Professor Lestrange who offered to take Neville to the Hospital Wing. She came back within five minutes, and saw her students performing a deathly dive. She managed to cast a cushioning charm, but Malfoy was going at such a fast speed that he’s still broken a few bones.

Snape’s face was paler than normal, and Harry hadn’t thought that was even possible. The man’s aura fairly froze the air around him, and Harry felt like it was as powerful, if not more, than even Regulus’. Harry was already shivering and began to shake.

“It was Potter-Black that did the suicidal dive. He purposefully goaded Draco into following. I want him expelled,” Snape said, his voice filled with barely suppressed anger. His entire demeanor screamed deadly and he radiated power. His aura permeated the air and made it chilling.

“We were just -“ Harry began, but he was roughly cut off by Professor Snape pulling out his wand. Harry looked up in shock, and looked Snape in the eyes. 

Snape stared long into his eyes. Harry suddenly felt like there was a nail driving into his mind. It tore through his mind. He felt like he was suddenly not in control of his thoughts. They were all jumbled and it was like memories of recent events flashed in front of his eyes.

“Professor Snape!” Madame Hooch said shrilly, and Snape looked away, to his right. Immediately, Harry felt the strange feeling in his mind disappear. 

They were talking, but Harry couldn’t hear what was being said. He tilted sideways and threw up on the grass.

Professor McGonagall took Mr. Weasley away. Madame Hooch took Draco. Dorea, Blaise, and Harry were left with Snape.

The three Slytherins were led by Snape to his office. Harry felt his heart sinking. He was going to be expelled. He hadn’t even began learning how to cast spells, and now it was going to end.

The three of them stood in front of Snape’s desk as the man paced back and forth. It was always colder in the dungeons, but it felt like the air was about to condense into ice at any moment.

Then they were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Professor Snape?”

“Enter.”

An upper year Slytherin poked his head in. He addressed Snape.

“You told me to report to you Malfoy’s status.”

“Speak.”

“He punctured a lung and broke the bones in his arms and legs, but they assured me it’s easy to heal. He should be back to normal in two days.”

“You can go, Murton.”

Harry felt a wash of relief fill him. He felt a bit better, but not much.

Silence rang in the room as Snape didn’t speak.

“You should all be expelled. Directly disobeying a professor’s order, putting your fellow classmates in danger, encouraging such behavior, are you snakes or idiotic lions?”

“Blaise and Dorea, for participating in this you have detention for the next month. Mister Potter-Black, stay behind.”

Blaise didn’t need to be told twice and nearly ran from the room. Dorea shot him a worried glance but couldn’t do anything but leave.

Silence rang in the room as Snape didn’t say anything for the longest time. Harry stared determinedly at his hands. He had to stay calm. He was furious that Snape had done something to his mind. But now would not be the best time to confront him about it. 

“You are fortunate that Draco is fine. I do not care what your version of events is. If anything happens to Draco, I _will_ make you regret it.”

“If you did legimency properly, you know it was not my intention.” Apparently he wasn’t as in control of his anger as he thought. Well. He wasn’t going to take those words back.

Snape’s eyes flashed. “How dare you speak to me like that?”

Harry stood up to his full height. “The last time I checked, using legimency on a minor was a punishable offence. You should think about that before announcing your punishment.”

Silence met his words.

“Are you threatening me?” The man’s tone took on a scary quality.

“Just stating a fact.” Harry said. “We all agreed to have a competition. I didn’t tell him to copy me if he couldn’t do it! Why should I take responsibility?”

“You consider him your friend, yet you show no concern for his wellbeing!”

“Murton just said he would be fine!” Harry shouted. “But you’ve had it out for me the moment I first met you. Draco can attend classes again in two days. I am the one in danger right now!”

“You should be expelled for egging your fellow students to do something so utterly foolish!”

“It was Draco that egged me!”

“You dare speak to me like this? You are just like your father and your godfather,” the man spat. “Arrogant, conceited, putting other’s in danger, the sooner you are expelled, the safer this school is!”

Harry breathed hard. He had never seen Snape lose control like that. The man had just exploded. His pale face was pink with hatred. Even when the man had showed up on the flying field with looks to kill, his temper ran cold and controlled. This was an adult, a powerful wizard to boot, a five foot man who towered over him.

Harry suddenly felt very afraid. All the emotions, from Weasley’s taunting, to Draco’s dare, to seeing his friend hurt, to being invaded by Snape, the long walk to his office with dread pooling in his stomach, this confrontation, it all became too much. He started crying.

It was a big bawl, great heaping gasps of his chest and the full waterworks.

“What are you-“ Snape was no longer yelling, a kind of surprise in his tone. “Shut up.”

“Waaaa!” Harry cried.

“I- shut up, child. Shut up, you are not expelled, just be quiet.”

That got Harry to stop crying out loud, he sniffed as he hiccuped his cries to slowly stop.

“I will not have a Slytherin be the first to be expelled,” he amended. “You will not tell anyone of your suspicions of legimency. Even if you did, I doubt you’d be able to prove it.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“You better not.”

“I’m a Slytherin, Professor.” Harry said. “Slytherins stick together.”

“Get out.”

Harry didn’t need to be told twice.


	12. Guardian Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thursday! Finally a normal sized chapter. Yay! I think it's a good ending point. I just churned this out today, and I just wanted to share immediately. FYI this is as far as my "pre-written" section goes. Everything after this might take longer as I write it from scratch (but hopefully not long) so please be patient. This is the chapter I've started to be the most excited and worried about. Because they meet. Enjoy!

After barely escaping from Snape, it was time for dinner. Harry headed over to the Slytherin table.

Blaise was so glad that he was off the hook. Of course he would get off the hook, Blaise thought. They were important families, and Snape always favoured Slytherins. He greeted Harry when he arrived. 

Crabbe and Goyle glared at Harry. But without Draco there to direct them, they didn't do anything other than glare. 

Theo and Dorea were sitting together. They were worried about Harry.

“Snape was so furious,” Dorea was saying. 

“He can’t blame it all on Harry—how would he know that Draco would follow?” Theo said.

“Of course he would follow,” Blaise snorted. “It doesn’t take a genius to see they have a rivalry going on.”

“I didn’t think-“ Harry began saying. “I do that move all the time-“

Blaise rolled his eyes. “Just like you to brag while Draco is still hurt.”

“Hey!” Harry said. “I’m just saying the truth.”

“Whatever,” Blaise said.

“Draco is going to be alright in two days,” Parvati added. 

* * *

The night after the broomstick incident, Harry had a strange dream. He dreamed that he woke up in a bedroom. The bed he laid on looked exactly like the one in his bedroom at Grimmauld Place. But the room itself was just a simple eight-feet by eight-feet. It had a plush blue carpet, a colour he loved, and a cozy fireplace. There were two doors leading out of the room. The door facing the bed and adjacent to the fireplace was a gorgeous golden, archway door with intricate designs. On the wall beside the bed is a small wooden door, looking like it led to a closet or storage space. The room was otherwise bare except for a sturdy wooden trunk.

Everything felt really comfortable, like he knew this place.

Harry took all of this in rather quickly, because at that moment, he noticed that he wasn’t alone. A young boy leaned against the wall beside the fireplace.

This boy wore a business suit, and looked somewhat like him, with black hair, handsome face, aristocratic features. But while Harry’s eyes were green, the boy’s eyes were a mesmerizing icy blue. Which was coincidentally Harry’s favourite colour, and the colour of the carpet.

Harry was pretty good at reading people. He’d had practice with Regulus who was hard to read on a good day. But he couldn’t read this boy at all.

This is a dream, Harry reminded himself. He could do whatever he wanted. He fell back on the bed and bounced a few times, for fun. Harry watched the boy out of the corner of his eye though. He saw an eyebrow raise in question.

“What- what are you doing?” The blue eyed boy asked. It was more like the boy demanded, but he was so small, and innocent looking, it really lost it’s effect.

“Bouncing on my bed,” Harry replied. “What does it look like?”

“I must confess I did not expect this reaction.”

“What, am I supposed to thank you for your presence?” Harry laughed, wriggling around for good measure.

The boy seemed to glare at him. Harry wasn’t really paying attention, happy to sprawl on the comfortable bed. “Fine. I’ll bite. Who are you? Why are you in my dream?” He turned his full attention to the boy.

There was a flash of smugness that Harry caught. It seemed like the conversation was finally going the boy’s way.

“My name is Tom, and I am a result of your mother’s Light magic. I want to protect you.”

Harry blinked. “My mother?” He had always thought of his father as Regulus and his godfather as Sirius. They were his parents. Lily and James Potter were people he thought little about, simply because it made him feel conflicted.

As if sensing his distrust, the boy raised his hand and Harry saw the swirl of magic. “I swear on my spirit that everything I say here today is the truth, so mote it be.”

Harry felt the take of an unbreakable bond. His eyes widened. This was not an ordinary dream. He suddenly jumped out of his bed. He was sure he hadn’t had his wand on him, but when he thought about it, his phoenix wand suddenly appeared in his hand. He pointed it straight at the boy.

“Who are you?”

He smiled, not at all concerned about Harry’s hostile stance.

“I am a result of your mother’s Light magic. I want to protect you,” he repeated. “My name is Tom.”

“What are you? A person? A figment of my imagination? Some kind of magic?”

“You can think of me as your guardian angel, if you’d like.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’d like to think I can make better jokes than that,” Tom said.

Harry snorted. “Okay, so… are you real?”

“I can exist in your mind,” Tom explained helpfully. “I usually stay over there,” he motioned at the golden door. “That’s my mind.”

“Your mind is behind a fancy golden door?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know occlumency?” Harry asked.

There was another flash of that smug look on the man’s face, as if the conversation was going exactly how he wanted it.

“Yes.”

“Can you teach me?”

“Of course.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Must there be one?”

“I don’t buy it.” Harry crossed his arms.

“You are asking for what I get out of this.”

“Yeah,”

“Your survival is useful in keeping me alive.”

“So, let me get this straight. My mom cast some Light magic that means you must protect me or die.” The blue-eyed boy nodded. “So, it sounds like you need me, but I don’t need you.” This meant that he could get rid of whatever this guardian was, but the boy couldn't get rid of him. 

Tom blinked. “Well, aren’t you a proper little Slytherin?” He seemed to have a small smile on his face. 

Was the boy teasing him? Harry had just threatened him, but he did not seem affected at all. “You don’t seem very scared for someone who needs me to stay alive.”

“I don't think you're going to kill yourself. And, believe me, I have looked for years to find a way to sever our connection. I doubt anyone you tell would be able to – save for killing you, of course.”

“As if you know everything,” Harry retorted. “I could tell the Dark Lord. I bet he would be able to take you out,” Harry bluffed. He would never tell something so private to the Dark Lord. Who knew what that manipulative man would do. The less the dark lord knew about him, about their twin wands, about his vision of his parents' death when the dementors had almost kissed him in diagon alley, about how the scar on his hand sometimes hurt around him, the better. Just fake rumors about the man having an interest in him was giving him headaches, he shuddered to think what would happen if they were true.

“I would know anything that dark lord of you knows, maybe more,” the boy said. 

“You sure have a big ego,” Harry frowned.

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Do you think your mother would go to all that trouble to get you a useless guardian?”

“You never know,” Harry said with a grin. That seemed to slightly ruffle the boy’s feathers. “Anyways, I just don’t see why I should share my mental space.”

“I can teach you occlumency. If you master it, you will even be able to keep me locked out. Isn’t that better than taking me out?”

Harry brightened. “I will be double checking anything you teach me, so don’t try to play me.”

“I know a way to prevent that from happening.”

“What do you mean?”

“I will swear an unbreakable vow on my life and magic that anything I say in this space is the truth. You will swear the same.”

What was the harm in that? “Define ‘this space’ and make it your life, magic, and existence, and you have a deal.”

The boy nodded. “This space, is your mind-scape.”

He walked Harry through the words of a vow, and Harry said them, then the boy repeated them dutifully. It took a few minutes, but it was done.

“Sleep.” The boy turned and opened the golden doors and began walking through. “I will visit you tomorrow night.”

“But you promised!”

“Your mind needs to recover from the attack by Severus Snape. You must rest. Until you learn occlumency, avoid his eyes. My power will be able to shield you as long as you don’t look directly into anyone’s eyes.”

“Okay.” Harry flopped on the bed while the boy went through the golden doors. “Thanks, Tom!”

Harry turned over, and because it had been an exhausting day, immediately descended into peaceful sleep.

* * *

The next day Harry woke up feeling like his mind was indeed better rested.

Before he did anything else, he snuck out with his map and made his way to the hospital wing. He wasn’t supposed to go look at Draco, but he was worried.

He wondered what he would say.

It seemed all for nothing because the hospital wing was empty. When he made it to the right bed, Draco was fast asleep. His arms and legs were in big bandages which were lumpy under the sheets. Harry sat down and stared at him for a long time.

He’d always thought his friend was handsome, objectively speaking. But now when he thought of the word handsome, the picture of Tom would keep popping into his mind.

Harry shook his head.

He quickly left the hospital wing.

Harry tried hard to pay attention in classes, but whenever he had a spare minute, he kept thinking about his mysterious guardian angel. Did those exist?

Sirius used to tell him all sorts of stories when he was younger. A young hero, finds a magical artifact with an ancient spirit within, who then teaches him and helps him become the strongest in the world. He wanted to believe it.

Plus, like all wizards, he trusted his gut. Tom felt familiar, somehow. Like he had been a part of him for a long time. It was magical intuition. Plus, the spirit or whatever the boy was had sword a real truth-vow.

If it was his mother that cast the spell to make Tom his protector, it must have been done right after he was born. So Tom must have been in his head the entire time. But no, Tom had said he stayed in his own mind, behind the golden door. So he had stayed in there. Harry guessed he had never been in any real danger before. What had Tom said? Something like ‘I’ve finally decided to talk to you, and this is how you treat me?’

The day passed relatively quickly. Harry and the other Slytherins were stared at wherever they went. Even Blaise, who was at first happy with the attention, was getting a little annoyed.

“Lucuis Malfoy is here!” Harry heard someone whisper loudly. “I saw him heading towards the hospital wing.”

Harry and the other Slytherins were returning to dinner when they heard the hall buzzing with chatter.

“He’s here to see his son, I bet.”

“I heard Harry Black dared him to race on a broom, then crashed him into the ground.”

“Those two are taking their dad’s feud to another level…”

Harry sighed internally. Since when did Lucuis and Regulus have a ‘feud’? And how was he the one to dare Draco? It had been Blaise!

Theo patted his back sympathetically.

“Don’t worry about it, mate,” Theo said.

“But maybe no more Wronski Feints, eh?” Dorea joked.

Harry attempted a smile, but really, none of them laughed. Theo elbowed Dorea.

“Ow!” she said. “Well you try to think of something to cheer him up, then!”

“…we still have a whole week until Potions?”

Harry buried his face in his hands. 

* * *

It turned out he didn’t need to wait until Potions. Harry was walking back towards the Slytherin Common Room with Blaise and Theo, when Snape suddenly appeared in front of them like a swooping but sophisticated bat.

“Potter-Black,” he sneered. “Come with me.”

Obediently, Harry followed the man, wondering what was going on. They were heading to his office. Did he suddenly remember that he forgot to give him detention? When they arrived at the door to Snape’s office, Snape stopped and glared at him.

“Go in.”

Harry gently pushed at the door and walked into the office.

A familiar aristocratic blonde stood in the room. Perfectly tailored robes, silvery embroidery, and a snake-headed cane could only belong to one person. Even when Harry and Draco had been friends, those eyes were always distant. Now the light blue eyes looked at him and Harry felt chilled to the bone.

“Mr. Malfoy!” Harry cried in shock.

 _Tom, if you’re there, now might be the time to start those guardian angel duties_ , Harry thought.

“Mr. Potter-Black.”

“I shall be brief. I do not care what sort of games you play, but if Draco were to be harmed again, in any way, I will make you pay for it.”

“What happened was an accident-“

“Do you understand?”

Those blue eyes were a bit like Tom's, Harry thought. He was probably in shock and thinking delerious thoughts. Quickly, Harry said, “Yes.”

The man swept out of the room.

* * *

“You led _who_ to Snape’s office?” Bellatrix yelled.

Neville winced and patted his mother gently to calm her down. “I was getting my ankle checked. Mr. Malfoy bumped into me outside the hospital wing. He wanted to see his friend, he said. I just didn’t expect Snape to go get Harry.”

“Are they still meeting?” Bellatrix asked, getting up hurriedly.

“I- I’m not sure. Probably not.”

“I need to write a letter to Regulus," Bellatrix fumed. 

"I'll help!" Neville offered. 

* * *

Harry went to sleep rather eagerly. He opened his eyes to the familiar bed and bounced out. 

Tom was standing there waiting for him. The boy was glaring at him. 

“Do you remember I told you to not look in people’s eyes?”

“Yes?” Harry replied. 

“Of course. That’s why you stared at Lucius Malfoy’s eyes so intently.”

Harry blushed. He hadn’t remembered—he had been really surprised, and the shade of blue was close to Tom’s but not quite. Tom’s was like a blue sky, but Lucius’ eye colour was pale like ice.

“I made protections for you, so he likely didn’t see anything. But- you are-” It seemed like he was at a loss of words when trying to think of something strong enough to describe Harry’s stupidity.

“Thank you,” Harry said meekly. The glare was still there but the aura around the boy didn't seem like he wanted to strangle him anymore. 

“I also caught this thing,” Tom pulled out something that looked like a puff of white smoke. “He put it in you.”

“What is that?”

“A very, very subtle, weak, and virtually undetectable compulsion charm.”

“What was it supposed to do?”

“Cause you to become scared of Draco. The very thought of harming Draco would probably cause you to wet yourself.”

“I thought you said it was weak?”

“Usually, it has no effect on wizards or witches. But- you - are special.”

“Somehow that doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

“It’s not. You have no occlumency barriers. Plus, you are still young and have a tiny, _baby_ magical core that can't resist. Then, you looked in his eyes and said ‘yes’,” Tom said.

Harry blinked. When you put it that way... Tom almost made it sound like Harry had purposefully made his defenses terrible. 

“Would that be permanent?”

“Depends.”

“Would it damage my mind?”

Tom just looked at him, _what do you think_?

“Can you get rid of it?”

Tom squished it with two fingers and it disappeared. Harry was a bit awed. Wasn't mind magic hard? This guy did it like it was nothing!

“This thing is untraceable unless another person is looking into your mind right when it was happening… so your really should thank me, brat.”

“Thank you! Thank you!” Harry laughed at Tom’s sour face. “This just means you really need to teach me occlumency,” Harry said happily. He rubbed his hands together. That's why he had been so nice to Tom. He had been trying to find a teacher forever! “I'm ready to start!”

Tom just looked at him.

“What?” Harry asked. 

“Tomorrow.”

Why tomorrow, Harry wanted to ask. But Tom had already turned and disappeared behind the golden door. Then he remembered why he hadn’t learned yesterday. His mind had been tired out by Snape’s intrusion. And today… Malfoy had intruded.

When would he have a day where his poor mind was left alone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was really worried about the response to this chapter, because I'm not sure if everyone would be confused by the dream scenes. Let me know! 
> 
> EDIT: BTW it's very strange for me because everyone's read the original books and know horcruxes exist, but Harry doesn't, and it's from his POV. PLUS, Voldemort/Tom would only say the truths that benefit him, and so- everyone is just going to have to keep guessing what is going on and who Tom is and what is he really after. ;)


	13. Not a Teddy Bear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! You know how sometimes, even thought you're a grown independent human, sometimes you want to whine until your significant other / family member into giving you hugs and/or cuddles? Yeah. That. Remember that mood.
> 
> Enjoy!

_"Massster...."_ A ten-foot king cobra hissed. _"Have I done well?"_

_"Very well."_

The snake let out a weak hiss that seemed like he was pleased with the praise. It closed its eyes then went to sleep, utterly spent. 

A pale hand with spiderlike fingers petted the king cobra. With the other hand, a discoloured old tiara was held up to the light. 

* * *

_Dear Regulus,_

_I might have caused some trouble for you. Blaise dared a few of us to fly better than him, and so me, Draco, and Weasley raced to catch a golf ball during flying class. I pulled a Wronski Feint. I am fine. It’s just that Draco followed me, and didn’t pull out of his dive in time. He will be ok in two days._

_Rumors are saying that I egged Draco to follow and get hurt, but that’s not what happened. No one believes me. Snape arrived on the scene and blamed it all on me too. Lucius came to see Draco today, and he looked pretty angry._

_Stay safe in case Lucius tries to get ‘revenge’ against you._

_Are you and Lucuis really having a ‘feud’?_

_Sincerely,_

_Harry_

* * *

Harry woke up the next morning feeling like his head was pounding. He hadn’t felt this bad the day after Snape’s intrusion. In fact, though he had felt a sharp pain when Snape had intruded, and a strange sense of helplessness as Snape looked at his memories, it had faded afterwards. But whatever Malfoy did, his head hurt. He had felt nothing at the time of Malfoy casting it. So maybe it was removing the compulsion that hurt his head? Whatever reason, Harry woke up feeling rather gloomy.

It was a Wednesday, so they had double history of magic in the morning. Harry sat at the back of the class with Dorea and Theo. Professor Yaxley droned on and on about something in the Medieval Ages, while stuttering and shaking, as was his way. It was hard for Harry to pay attention as it was, but Yaxley didn’t make it any easier.

The three of them were really trying to pay attention, but only Theo was having any luck. They all had their parchments out, taking notes. Harry and Dorea had three and five lines, respectively, while Theo had an entire page. 

“Does having your house robbed cause stuttering?” Dorea muttered. She sat at the table between Harry and Theo today, so they both heard her clearly.

“If you just listen to him, the content isn’t bad,” Theo said. 

“But the problem is listening,” Dorea whispered.

Harry snorted. Though she was whispering to Theo, he was right beside her and heard everything clearly. He nodded, agreeing quickly.

Theo whispered back, speaking quickly, “No curses, nothing to smash or kill us, no plants to strangle us-- this is one of our best classes!” Theo retorted. Potions was his favourite class, but history of magic was interesting as well.

“Well…” Dorea liked herbology. So many plants, with so many properties, there were always new and beautiful things to see there. They could always do hands-on stuff too. She knew Theo was deathly afraid of herbology ever since he got strangled by a devil’s snare when younger, so she didn’t say anything.

“This class is one of our better classes,” Theo insisted. “No one is going to get sent to the hospital wing from this class.”

Dorea chuckled. They then suddenly remembered how their last broomstick class had ended with someone in the infirmary, and suddenly froze, looking at Harry.

Harry felt a tinge of guilt for the broomstick incident. Even if he had never set out with the intention of causing Draco to fall, it was true that if he hadn’t done such a risky move, Draco would not have done it. He couldn’t feel a lot of guilt, but a tinge was there. Speaking of Draco, wasn’t he going to be back by today?

Seeing that Dorea and Theo were still looking at him worriedly, Harry smiled at them.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Isn’t Draco going to come back today?”

“Yeah,” Theo answered. He quickly added, “it’s not your fault.”

“Yeah,” Dorea said. “It was all of our faults, including Draco, for doing that competition.”

Seeing how they were reassuring him, Harry felt a little touched. “Thanks,” he said. “I actually know Draco pretty well. He likely won’t blame me.” Draco would likely be mad at himself. He thought Draco could either never fly again, or start practicing like crazy. Either way, Draco would want to beat Harry at something. The boy was very competitive.

Dorea and Theo didn’t say anything. They didn’t know Draco very well. Rosier worked closely with Regulus so the Rosiers were on the Black’s side. Dorea was aware of this, and since she thought Harry and Theo were more fun than Draco anyways, she didn’t hesitate to throw her lot with them. As for Theo, his father was a workaholic that didn’t participate in political parties. Theo was free to make friends in any party. Even though they had only been together for a few weeks, Theo could see clearly that Harry and Dorea were nicer. He liked that trait in his friends.

Later in the day, Draco returned to them. There was a big commotion because they were having lunch in the great hall. Draco just casually walked over to the Slytherin table. He was completely recovered, not a single bandage or bruise could be seen on him. Though Crabbe and Goyle went up to him immediately, he motioned for them to sit down with him at a place far from Harry, Theo, and Dorea. Crabbe glared at Harry a few times as they talked, but Draco seemed to say something, and the boy stopped. From that moment on, Draco basically ignored Harry and pretended like he didn’t exist.

Harry was fine with that. He preferred to be ignored than to be fighting.

Still, Harry couldn’t help but feel a little sad about the loss of their childhood’s friendly rivalry and friendship. This was the first time in his life that he learned that friendships can fall apart because of their parents’ politics, and there was nothing you could do about it.

They had charms in the afternoon, and a break before astronomy at night. The three of them headed to the library and got a good chunk of their homework done. The library was filled mostly with Slytherins and Ravenclaws studying, with the odd upper year Gryffindor. Hufflepuffs liked studying in groups, and they had their own study rooms in their common room.

After a productive afternoon, they headed for the astronomy tower.

* * *

“Tonight, Mars shines brightly,” professor Sinistra observed.

Harry and Theo had paired up again, while Dorea paired with Parvati.

“As Samhain approaches, the veil between worlds is weaker. Old Powers can walk this earth. The stars show us the approach of these powers, their passing, and their leaving.”

Dorea raised her hand. “Does this mean we should star gaze on Samhain?”

Professor Sinistra smiled. “That is a good idea.”

Draco raised his hand. “We have Samhain rites to attend.”

Professor Sinistra nodded. “Then I shall make it an optional event. Those who are interested can come to the astronomy tower at night. I will show them what I can see.”

“Oooh, so cool!” Parvati was saying.

“Yeah,” Dorea smiled. “We get to see the stars on Samhain!”

“Professor Sinistra is an amazing astronomer,” Parvati’s eyes were shining with excitement. “Whatever she can see that night will be amazing to see and hear!”

Theo and Harry smiled too. “Let’s go together,” Harry suggested.

Theo nodded.

The Slytherins had a room set aside for students wishing to perform a rite during Samhain, to pay homage to their elders. While some used it, most people’s parents would be doing rites already, so they had freedom that night. Regulus and Sirius did it every year, and sometimes Harry had watched. It was nothing too interesting. Harry would much rather see what Professor Sinistra would show them in the night sky, and what things she could see in the stars.

* * *

"OMG did you guys hear?" Lisa Turpin said excitedly. Sue, Pansy, and Cho looked up at their friend who was grinning from ear to ear. Normal people would let the Gossip Queen share her news. But they were Ravenclaws. What Ravenclaw would back down from answering a question?

"That Lucius Malfoy secrelty confronted Harry Potter-Black?" Sue guessed. 

"I was the one to tell you that," Lisa said, frowning. "And I only knew from my dad, who was running the new Witch Weekly release past Regulus, who got a Howler from Professor Lestrange." 

"I know." Pansy said. "That the dark lord punished Lucius Malfoy for appearing at Hogwarts without permission."

"Wait-what?" Lisa looked at Pansy, shocked enough that she stopped vibrating in her seat. 

"The dark lord called a death eater meeting last night," Pansy said smugly. Finally, she was the one bringing the news. 

"On a Tuesday?" 

Pansy rolled her eyes. "He can call one any time, duh. My father's in the inner ring of the outer circle. The dark lord crucioed Malfoy in front of the entire-"

"It's not that either!" Lisa interrupted again. She had began vibrating.

"What is it?"

"McGonagall made a first-year the new Gryffindor seeker!"

"WHAT?" Sue exclaimed. 

"Omg who?" Cho asked. 

"Ron Weasley!" 

"How is that more exciting than news of Lucius Malfoy getting punished? And a day after confronting Harry?" Pansy muttered. 

Sue Li gave her a pat on the back.

Lisa Turpin gave Pansy a look. "The fact that Voldemort has interest in Harry Potter-Black is _such old news_."

Pansy looked at their Gossip Queen with her mouth wide open. Was this the same girl that was gushing about how the Dark Lord was definitely interested in Harry Potter-Black?

The other girls began talking with excitement.

"A new seeker could mean Ravenclaw can get the House Cup!"

"You know Slytherin only wins the house cup every year because they win at quidditch. The year that Gryffindor won the quidditch cup, Ravenclaw got the house cup!"

"Yeah, and that was when Charlie Weasley was captain! This is a Weasley too, if McGonagall added him, he must be good."

"And Slytherin's seeker is mediocre on a good day." 

"Let me make an arithmacy table of our odds of winning..." 

* * *

When they returned to the dorms, Harry was tired and fell asleep quickly. Same as before, he found himself waking up in that square room. He was on a soft couch by the fireplace. Harry could feel the warmth of the fire. Despite himself, he began curling a comfy ball in front of the fire. His eyes searched the room.

Tom wasn’t here.

Harry felt a crash of disappointment.

The room was a little different. There was no bed this time. The room was still pretty bare except for the trunks in the back. There were still two doors. One was the dingy wooden one that he could not open. The second was the majestic golden door. Curious, Harry walked over to the golden one. As Harry ran his hands along that one, he felt the intricate carvings. Harry particularly liked the one of a beautiful phoenix and gigantic snake, entangled together. They seemed to be fighting but also so close and entangled they could be embracing.

The moment Harry’s hand touched the head of the snake, the doors swung open.

Harry’s mouth dropped.

This… this was a palace.

Expensive black marble was warmed by the flickering of torchfire along the smooth edges. At least five stories high, the hall he walked into rivaled the one in Hogwarts. The floor and walls were made of an expensive looking, shimmering dark marble. A grand staircase took up the far side. It led up and to both sides to the second floor. The room was circular. On the second floor and above, the walls were lined with bookshelves filled with books.

The hall was very big and empty, with some expensive rugs on the floor in the center, a few decorative lamps, and a large desk.

Tom sat behind the desk, writing something.

He looked up when Harry entered.

“Harry.”

“Is this your _mind_?” Harry asked, flabbergasted.

“Yes,” his lips twitched when he saw Harry’s awestruck expression. “I have lots of knowledge, so it’s normal that my mind is bigger.”

“You sure you’re a guardian angel? Not a librarian?” 

“With my intellect and magic, why would I take a mundane job?”

Harry blinked. “So, have you done other jobs?”

"My current job is to protect you, among other things," Tom looked at him. 

"What other things?" 

“My job is to answer the call of the magical, to strive to improve their lives, and to protect you.” 

Harry felt the truth vow they took tremble but not activate. It was not the full truth, but nothing was a lie. If there was a lie, this Tom would die.

“You’ve said that already," Harry said. "The protect me bit." 

“You are far more accepting of the truth today,” he remarked.

“You can’t lie.” Harry said. "And I can't think of another reason why someone would benefit from me learning occlumency. It makes sense. You benefit from this too." 

“That is true. If you are ready to learn occlumency, let’s start.” Tom began standing up. “I think we shall go back to your mind. The familiar environment will be more conductive to you learning.”

“I’m ok here too,” Harry said. He stared at the books lining the walls.

“The exercises will be easier in your mind.”

“Are you really eleven?” Harry asked suddenly.

“No,” Tom’s lips twitched.

“How old are you?”

“Old enough.”

“Why don’t you take the form of an older person then?”

“I assume you would be more at ease with someone your own age.” Tom raised an eyebrow. "No?"

“Sorta. But I know what you are now. So, can’t you take on an adult form?”

“…why?”

“So you can carry me over to the other room.” Harry grinned. “I want a hug.”

Harry had been feeling a little lonely at Hogwarts. It was his first time being away from his family, and while Theo and Dorea were good, and even Neville was nice, he really wanted a hug. He wanted an adult. He wanted Sirius to joke with him, and Regulus to look at him and pat him on the head. He wanted to have that kind of trust with someone where he could pester them and they would give him comfort. Of course, Harry didn’t know this. He just looked at Tom with his arms out and a wide smile. Tom, however, did not look pleased.

“I’m a spiritual guardian, not a teddy bear,” Tom bit out.

“Pleaseee?” Harry said. “Can’t you give me a hug?”

“… keep standing there and I will _banish_ you to the other room,” Tom said. It didn’t seem very threatening coming from an overdressed eleven-year-old. 

“I thought you couldn’t harm me,” Harry grinned. 

“You won’t be hurt if I throw your spiritual-body from here to your mind.”

“No? It sounds painful.”

“Do you want to learn occlumency or not?”

“Of course.”

“Then get going.” Tom gave him his darkest glare.

Harry only laughed. The glare he met was pretty chilling, Harry admitted. It was like the man could kill him with the glare. But Harry knew he couldn’t hurt him, so he just smiled back beseechingly.

When Harry still didn’t move, Tom morphed into a teenaged Tom and picked him up. He didn’t give him a hug though, just slung him over his shoulder. Harry enjoyed the elegant way the teenager walked over to the golden door. They opened for him by themselves and closed behind them soundlessly.

Arms then took him at the torso and threw him on the couch. Harry landed on his bottom and bounced happily.

“That wasn’t bad. Though, you can work on the-“

“Enough.”

Harry grinned. The glare he got was even more angry. He thought that he was probably close to pushing too much. Harry mimed closing his mouth with his hands. The glare directed at him was still pretty threatening, but Harry didn’t let it bother him. Harry silently looked at the seventeen- or eighteen-year-old looking Tom. The age suited him much better, Harry thought, as his aristocratic looks grew, and he became more handsome. Without his childish appearance, it suited his demeanour much better. Harry approved.

“Occlumency is the Art of protecting your mind. The first step is to clear your mind. Process and let go of all thoughts and emotions. The effect is that anyone looking in would see an empty space.”

Harry nodded. “Okay.”

“Breath in and out like this… then imagine this…”

Harry listened attentively to everything that Tom said. He had a soothing, charming voice. He taught well. Clearly, he knew what he was doing.

They spent a few hours with Harry trying to meditate. They took short breaks where Harry would pepper Tom with questions, but mostly kept at it. They had gone on for a while before Harry gave a yawn.

“That’s it for today. Go sleep.”

“Hmm? I haven’t got it.”

“It takes months, child,” Voldemort explained. “We will continue tomorrow.”

“Ok.” Harry rubbed his eyes from his seated position beside Tom. He wriggled left and right, slowly getting closer to Tom. He then slowly reached behind Tom’s neck and enveloped the boy in a hug.

Harry felt Tom freeze. Maybe he was imagining things, but he thought that Tom’s ears went red. He was as stiff as a board. Grinning to himself, Harry sighed sleepily and laid his head on the teenager’s shoulder. Harry then let himself fall asleep. He had been fighting tiredness for a while, so it was pretty much instant. _Now he has to carry me to the bed,_ Harry thought smugly before falling into dreamless sleep.


	14. (Optional Chapter) - Adults Are Doing Stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, just an optional mini-chapter. I was hoping to have the next chapter up by this week, but it's the Halloween sequence, which is really long and a bit difficult to write. And, life suddenly threw a curveball at me. I suddenly found out I had a month less time than I'd thought for a research project. Also, my new school term starts this Tuesday. Knowing I could either post something today, or in two weeks, I thought I would post this! 
> 
> This is an extra-scene where we see what Regulus has been doing. I wanted to try out a different style of writing where I basically write more. I usually try to write very concisely, and this is just more wordy. 
> 
> This takes place about a day before the events of last chapter. The same day Lucius went to Hogwarts, but later in the day, and a few days before the Ravenclaw gossip session. Oh, and there's a bit of Jugson. :)

Regulus received Harry’s letter with a frown.

He knew that Harry would not hurt Draco. Especially that sort of method. Was Draco doing it on purpose? That did not seem likely either. 

His eyes fell on the long letter that Bellatrix had written him. His mouth tightened, and he had the urge to slam his hand on the table. Lucius...

What was Lucius thinking!? Harry was an eleven-year-old. Harry was the Black heir. Harry was a child. His child. Regulus had watched him grow up from a small bundle that fit in the crook of his arm, to the small child he was today. He would never let anyone harm his child. 

Walburga and Orion Black had not been very loving parents. They had believed that the role of children was to carry on the Black name and bring honour to their house. They forced many harsh lessons on both Sirius and Regulus from a young age. Only their nanny that had been kind, shown them love, made the better people. But when they were just about to become adults, in a fit of rage over Sirius running away, Walburga killed her.

In most ways, Regulus had a happier childhood than Sirius. It wasn’t that their parents favoured Regulus, but Sirius was the eldest. By pureblood rules, he would inherit. Sirius had more pressure placed on him and more lessons. Regulus was spared a lot of that. Plus, he was of milder temperament, and he was a Slytherin. He knew not to directly argue, but plan and wait. Just from watching Sirius' childhood, he knew how bad it could get being a pureblood heir. He had sworn that he would never let that happen to his child. And he had long though of Harry as his. By magic, he was Harry’s father. He would protect Harry, let him have a happy childhood, grow up at a normal pace. James Potter had such an upbringing, and he was as intelligent and as good as any wizard.

Of course, while he wanted to protect his kid, he had never wanted to raise a spoiled or dumb child. He had always taught Harry, pushed him, but supported him. And Harry was smart. He had obviously realized that Regulus was not telling him things, and he suspected…

There were so many things Regulus was keeping from Harry. It was the desire to protect him. At his age, Harry should be focusing on his school, on his social skills, not plotting and scheming about politics.

_Are you and Lucius really having a ‘feud’?_

Regulus laughed without really laughing while thinking about the truthful answer to this question. 

After the dementor attack in Diagon Alley, the dark lord had used Regulus’ name, his support, to deal blows against Lucius. Obviously, the various political powers would see this, and they would withdraw support from Lucius if he could not make a stance of strength. So, Lucius had to either gain some kind of power, or deal a blow to Regulus.

He had chosen to retaliate against Regulus. His connections and supports had stood with him and given him a hell of a time in August. Of course, Lucius had also been stripped of his control of the dementors during this time, so neither side really had an upper hand.

He’d more or less explained this to Harry and Sirius before Harry departed to Hogwarts.

But there were many things Regulus knew that he did not tell anyone.

For example, Regulus knew that immediately after the Lucius finished the dementor debatacle in the first week of August, two pureblood houses immediately raised an issue for Regulus. These were two houses previously friendly to Regulus. And he also knew that Lucius had secretly given the two houses a strip of land in eastern Britain, almost three months before. This meant that Lucius had always meant to move on Regulus, at least months before. The man had only taken this opportunity to act.

Now, when he stared at Bellatrix’s letter, about how Lucius had gone and secretly met Harry, and he was very, very angry. Bellatrix’s words were sharp and her letter was lengthy, but even she thought that Lucius was worried and anxious about Draco. She thought that he’d visited Harry in a fit of anger.

Only Regulus knew, or he suspected, Lucius had wanted to meet Harry alone for a long time. And he was only using this as an opportunity. That would align with what he knew about Lucius Malfoy.

One after another, the dementor attack, the rumors that their Lord was interested in Harry, and now meeting Harry in private, Regulus was sure that Lucius’ target was Harry.

That was something Regulus could not tolerate.

It was time he struck back.

So, I guess, yes, Harry, Regulus thought, we are having a feud.

Now as for Bella’s angry letter spanning two pages, Regulus wrote a quick response.

_Dear Bellatrix,_

_I don’t have time to read this—Can you send me howler tomorrow at 3 PM?_

_Thank you,_

_Regulus_

Regulus had a small smile as he looked at this short and vague letter. His correspondence was all sealed and tamper proof, but he still liked to have plausible deniability. That done, he summoned his secretary.

“Lord Black?”

“Hasn’t Mr. Turpin wanted to see me for a while?”

“Yes, I’ve done as you asked and kept unimportant press away… but he’s been quite insistent.”

“Have him see me tomorrow at 3. If he comes early let him sit at the lounge right outside my office. And by the way, I’ll also see these people tomorrow at 3:30, tell them they can all come before 3 to meet Mr. Turpin.”

“Yes, Lord Black.”

* * *

Professor Jugson sighed as he covered the Mirror of Erised with the white cloth. His blonde hair was matted to his forehead, as he wiped the sweat from his brow. The mirror was almost done. Now, he only had the trap portkeys to set up. Space distortion was his specialty. He had been famous throughout Europe for his abilities. He was one of the only people in the world with a transfiguration mastery in space and matter.

He moved over to a trunk and levitated thirty or forty square stone pieces from it. They radiated magic. They looked exactly like the flagstones on the ground of the room he was in charge of trapping. He had already done the arithmacy for his trap portkeys to take anyone who stepped on them to dangerous places in Magical Britain. Of course, just in case someone on their side (i.e. himself) accidentally stepped on them, there was a way to make them take you back. 

He'd been testing these trap portkeys everyday, in a secluded field behind the pumpkin patch. A strong ward, plus some space distortion spells, and no one was the wiser. Evening after evening, the days passed quickly with him walking onto a portkey, disappearing, and appearing back after a few seconds, either with robes that were a little burned or torn. Sometimes he would make it back with the same flagstone he'd left on. Sometimes, he had to activate his emergency portkey. They weather slowly became colder, as the days approached the end of October. Finally, one final evening, he did everything twice, and did not need his emergency portkey. 

A large smile appeared on his face as he regarded his creations. They were done! 

He was going to relax for a few days before he transported these flagstones to the room on the third-floor corridor. He deserved it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll do my best to have the next chapter up soon! Thank you for your understanding. :)


	15. All Hallow's Eve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suprise! There's an update! Happy start of school term for those that have school! Hopefully this brings some cheer to all ye who toil for education as I do. Enjoy!
> 
> So, somehow the stress made me write more. And by more, I mean my longest chapter yet! A huge thank you to my friend Lady_Panthea (love you!) who read the chapter and made edits and reassured me that the chapter's ok. So, I thought, might as well post it! 
> 
> Now, I really have to go work on my research project. TGIF.

After the first occlumency lesson, Tom always appeared as his teenaged self. Harry thought it suited his bossy nature. He had always fought not to laugh when he’d be ordered to do something or threatened with violence by an eleven-year-old kid. Especially one who looked like an angel. And was even his guardian angel of some sort.

“Are you good at occlumency?” Harry asked curiously. 

“I am.”

“So you could keep me out.”

“Yes.”

“If you are a guardian in my head, why do you have your own mind? And it’s connected by a door?”

“The magic your mother cast connected our minds.”

“That doesn’t make sense…”

“This is probably the first time this has ever happened in the history of magic.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now I suggest you focus on practicing occlumency, or you will never master it.”

Harry tried again.

Maybe it was because of his older appearance, but Harry followed his instructions much easier. Their lessons went well, and within a week Harry was able to clear his mind for the first time. After that, they would try to prolong the amount of time he could do so. Tom didn’t show up every night. Sometimes, he left instructions for Harry to practice.

“Why don’t you sit closer? I don’t bite,” Harry said, patting the area on the floor beside him. Harry sat in a lotus position on the carpeted floor.

Tom looked at him from his spot, leaning against the wall. He pointedly ignored him. “Focus on clearing your mind.”

“I would focus much better if you were beside me.”

“Ridiculous.”

“I feel safer close to you.” Tom was hard to read, but Harry definitely saw the briefest flash of emotion at that. Surprise? “If I feel safer, it’s easier to sink into my mind.”

The silence stretched on.

“Just do your practice,” the teen said finally, not moving from his spot.

Harry pouted.

Tom stared at his expression, especially at those beseeching eyes. Harry heard the teen sigh. Inwardly, he grinned.

Tom closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, as if asking for patience. “Once you are able to clear your mind on command, and hold it for thirty minutes, I will begin to teach you how to construct mental barriers. Then, you don’t have to fear Severus or Lucius.”

“That... quickly?”

“How long can you hold it now?”

“Er, about twenty seconds,” Harry said, with a beaming smile.

If Tom was someone who showed emotions easier, Harry thought, he would have rolled his eyes. It was all too easy for Harry to imagine what sort of emotions Tom would show, if he wasn’t such a stuck-up rod.

“It was only five seconds last week,” Harry pointed out.

One… two… three… Harry wondered if the vein in Tom’s forehead would pop out like Sirius’ when he got angry enough.

“I’m going to practice again then. You sure you’re not bored?”

“Your proficiency in occlumency is a development I place above my entertainment,” Tom said.

Harry blinked at him. Genuinely, it took him a minute to translate that. He considered himself a very well-spoken eleven-year-old, thank you very much, with years of etiquette classes and extensive reading to improve his vocabulary. But still- who spoke like that? However, after translating the sentence, he grinned at the teen. Haha, and he acted like he didn’t like Harry…

“Well I do value your… entertainment status,” Harry smiled. “Okay, I’m going to practice now, but say something if you’re bored.”

“No need.”

“Hmm,” Harry responded, but he was already closing his eyes. Breathe in, breathe out. Imagine all his thoughts slowly settling down, his mind was a calm and tranquil place, he slowly focused on his breathing, and relaxed to clear his mind.

* * *

In the next few weeks, everyone watched with bated breath to see if Draco would try to get revenge on Harry. He didn’t. He acted like Harry didn’t exist and would glare at anyone who brought up the broom incident. Slowly, a week passed, then the next. The entire event faded from people’s minds. Harry had been almost shaking when he attended potions that Friday, but Snape was only his usual self, snapping at students. He too, ignored Harry. 

Harry was so stunned by Snape’s indifference that Theo had to elbow him at the end of potions to get him to stop gazing into the distance in shock. The day before, he had gotten a reply letter from Regulus. It was abnormally long, but still too vague for Harry’s liking. The letter talked about how the man didn’t think he was to blame for the broom incident, but also didn’t like that Harry had put himself in danger. The letter then went on to say that Regulus would always, always protect Harry. Then, he admitted that he was “at odds” with Lucius, but that he had things “in hand”. He then stressed that Harry was to focus on his studies, and not worry about anything else.

It answered some of his questions, but Harry was also very confused about what he meant. That was, until Potions.

Additionally, Harry didn’t know how his dad did it, but the rumor mill was now full-swing ignoring Harry, to talk about Ronald Weasley.

Apparently, while Blaise had stopped when he saw the reckless dive, Weasley was right behind Harry and Draco. The boy hadn’t caught the ball, but he had also done the dive and come out of with without a scratch. The Gryffindor team just happened to be in need of a seeker, so McGonagall had offered the boy the position on the spot. Hence, the youngest quidditch player in a century was born.

The halls buzzed with speculation. If Slytherin did not win the Quidditch Cup, there was a good chance for another house to take the House Cup. Hence, the youngest Weasley’s quidditch performance was of so much interest, the stares and gossip quickly revolved around him.

There was an air of mystery around it, because no one knew Weasley’s skill. The Gryffindor Captain would even call Weasley their secret weapon. And no matter who tried to spy or get closer to the boy, they would be rebuffed by the strong power that was the Weasley Twins. The twin’s popularity, strong spell work, and general ability to prank people until they begged for forgiveness, meant no one had been able to discover more.

As this determinant of the House Cup remained a secret, the whispers and looks at Harry reduced and reduced. The best thing about it all was that, now that he was so popular, always surrounded by either fans or people ridiculing him, Weasley didn’t have time to bother Neville. Neville had also gotten some form of encouragement from Bellatrix, and he didn’t seem to be as afraid all the time.

Sadly, Harry’s new immunity in potions did not extend to Neville, who busted another cauldron, losing Gryffindor twenty points and gaining him detention.

In the weeks that followed, Harry happily attended classes, ignored Malfoy, who also ignored him back, joked with Dorea and Theo, snuck away sometimes to see Neville, and learned occlumency with Tom.

Regulus had been at the top in almost all of his classes, and Harry was determined to achieve that too. It’s just that he had underestimated the skill of his classmates, and how much their families had prepared them. Theo was number one in potions—he seemed to already have studied everything up to second year. Neville was just super good at herbology. Dorea was already proficient in all the first-year curses and counter curses. Her outgoing nature already made her popular in Slytherin. Malfoy was very well-taught, he was either first or second in all his classes. Harry worked hard to keep up with his year-mates. His determination made him a daily visitor to the library.

“Where you going?” Dorea asked on one of the Saturdays at the end of the month. She lounged on one of the couches in the first-year area of the Slytherin common room. A card exploded in her hands, and she laughed while Theo cursed. She and Theo were playing exploding snap. At her question, Theo looked up from his cards.

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the lake water to make the room shimmer with green light. Harry nodded at his friends.

“Just the library. I wanted to edit my History of Magic essay,” he lied quickly.

At the mention of History of Magic, Dorea yawned. “No thanks, I’ll just stay here.”

“Me too,” Theo said.

Harry grinned. This was the normal response to History of Magic. “I might go for a walk after. Don’t wait up for me.”

Dorea nodded. “Ok.”

“See you later, Harry.”

Successfully shaken off his friends, Harry headed to the library. He read through the books on the shelves until he found the occlumency section. It was very small. Looking left and right, but no one was in the library on such a sunny Saturday afternoon, he quickly took all five books and found a secluded alcove.

THE THEORY OF OCCLUMENCY

MASTERING OCCLUMENCY

OCCLUMENCY FOR BODY AND MIND FITNESS

OCCLUMENCY FOR BEGINNERS

THE MIND ARTS

Slowly, he settled down and began reading them. He quickly flipped through the first few, stopping to read sections on how to practice occlumency. He double checked them with what Tom had been teaching him. Apparently, occlumency was not an art you could learn from books alone. Each occlumency needed a teacher, another person, to guide them in the process. The first step was to clear your mind. After you could do that, you would need to be invaded by another, usually your teacher, until you could force them out. This was the only method of learning occlumency.

All the activities and practices Tom had taught him or explained were safe, and were mentioned in the books. Harry wasn’t surprised. Tom had sworn a truth oath, then said that he needed to protect Harry. He’d also said he would teach Harry occlumency. Feeling bored of these books, Harry quickly put them back and went to look at the other sections of the library.

On his way back, he passed by the kitchens to grab some food since he missed dinner and ran into Neville.

“Nev? I thought you had detention tonight.”

“I do,” he said. He raised the toothbrush in his hand. “I have to clean the trophy cabinet.”

“Why don’t they have you working on the third-floor corridor?”

“Oh, well you wouldn’t know this, but mum said they finished constructing that. You know, it’s now, um, _fully operational_.”

“I guess it has been two months,” Harry spoke his thoughts out loud.

“Yeah, so, I find this better than growing devil’s snare,”

“Growing what?”

“That’s what I was doing during detention… did Professor Sprout not give you the same task?”

“I had detention with Professor Jugson…”

“Oh…”

“We’re probably not supposed to talk about this,” Neville whispered finally.

“Yeah,” Harry whispered back. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“Me neither.”

They parted ways quickly.

So now Harry knew that the dark room that was damp and smelly contained devil’s snare. He shuddered. And that was only one of the rooms that spun around the central area. All the rooms were all complete now? What was the Dark Lord hiding behind all of that?

* * *

All too soon it was Samhain. October 31st dawned on a nice and sunny morning without a single cloud within sight.

“This will be great weather for stargazing!” Theo said excitedly, sprawled on the red and white checkered picnic blanket they had borrowed from some helpful elves.

“I can’t wait for tonight,” Dorea said.

“Me too,” Harry said.

Four students sat comfortably on a picnic blanket under a maple tree on the grounds. They had decided to come out for a picnic for lunch, and Harry had also invited Neville. The boy in question quietly ate his food while Harry, Dorea, and Theo chatted.

“Are you going, Neville?” Harry asked.

The boy swallowed. He looked a bit scared. He shook his head.

“I’d rather not,”

“Come on, Nev,” Harry said smiling. “It’ll be fun.” 

“Professor Sinistra could show us parts of magic we’ve never seen before,” Dorea added. 

After much persuasion, Neville still didn't budge. The three Slytherins, sensing defeat, admitted it gracefully. 

“Come on, let’s go pumpkin carving!” Dorea said happily. “It’s a Hogwarts tradition!”

During the entire day, there was a pumpkin carving activity in the field outside the greenhouses. The grassy lawn was filled with fresh pumpkins of all shapes and sizes, and upper years students were helping younger students carve shapes into their pumpkins.

By the time Harry, Theo, Neville, and Dorea arrived, most students were already in groups. They stood there awkwardly, looking for someone who looked like they were in charge.

“First years?” A Hufflepuff prefect asked them kindly when the quartet showed up. He flash of surprise showed on his face when he was three Slytherins and a Gryffindor, but it was quickly replaced by his friendly smile. “This is one of the funnest events in the castle. You guys can join my group. I have about three other students also waiting to be taught the pumpkin carving spell. Follow me,” the prefect chatted with them easily. “I’m Cedric Diggory.”

The four of them also introduced themselves, and Harry was pretty impressed by how he didn’t even raise an eyebrow at their names. He continued being friendly and easy going, just generally chatting until they reached a trio of first year Hufflepuffs. They recognized each other of course, having classes together.

Three girls in Hufflepuff colours were laughing at something one of them said, while one of them looked over and saw Cedric. “Oh look, Cedric’s coming back.”

“Hey girls,” Cedric said. “I managed to pick up a few more people.”

“Nice,” the tall, blonde girl said with a smile. “I’m Mandy, and this is Hannah and Megan.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Harry said. “I’m Harry, this is Theo, Dorea, and Neville.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Mandy said formally, and Hannah and Megan echoed her sentiments.

“Alright,” Cedric said, rubbing his hands together. “Today we’re going to learn how to cast the butterknife spell! It’s almost like the cutting curse, except it can’t cut anything harder than fruit or veggies. A good solid baguette could stop it. However, you can give yourself cuts, and I’ve had one student take out his eye, so, still be very careful.” Neville began looking a little pale. “Also, it only extends about the length of your hand, perfect for carving. I’ll demonstrate on this pumpkin.”

So saying, he pulled out his wand and pointed it upwards towards the sky.

“Cultro Butyrum!”

A yellow light emited from his wand and it extended about the length of his wand. The yellow light remained in existence. 

One of the Hufflepuff girls, Megan, muttered something to her friends. It sounded suspiciously like, “Looks like a lightsaber.”

Harry, who definitely did not have a bored godfather who was under house arrest and only allowed out if accompanied by his own busy brother, who had charmed a TV to work in their basement, and secretly shown Harry some “movies”, did not cough at that point to hide a laugh.

“I’m keeping the spell activated, so you can see how far it goes.” He reached down and placed a fresh pumpkin before him. Slowly, he pointed his wand down at the top of the pumpkin and said, “Cultro butyrum,” then he slowly brought his wand in a circle. It cleanly cut the pumpkin. He cancelled the spell and then gripped the stem to remove the top of the pumpkin.

“I’ll just vanish the stuff inside,” and he did, “and Voila!”

“There is no wand movement necessary, just be careful of your pronunciation. Now you guys try!” 

It took a few minutes, but everyone got the spell. Soon, they were all carving into their own pumpkins with enthusiasm. When the all finished, they looked at their pumpkins with interest.

“That’s a nice snitch, Harry.” Theo said. It was a little wobbly, but the general shape was there.

“Nice dragon, Theo,” Harry said.

“I like Hannah’s flower,” Dorea said.

“It’s so pretty,” Megan said.

“What’s that, Nev?” Harry asked. “The swirls are nice.”

“Um, it’s supposed to be, I thought it had to be something scary right, for Halloween,” he said. “It’s supposed to be Devil’s Snare.” 

Theo shuddered. “That’s a good one,” he said.

“Yeah, you got the shape exactly right,” Harry said.

Neville beamed.

The easy chatter died down as they all looked at Dorea’s carving with some hesitation.

“I did a carving of the stars!” Dorea said proudly. “That’s the big dipper and the little dipper, and that bit is the northern star!” She began pointing out all of the landmarks.

“Oh, I thought you’d just done a badly connected spoon,” Theo said with relief.

“Theo!” Dorea yelled.

“What? It’s almost dinner and I thought you were hungry.” Theo looked absolutely innocent.

Dorea looked like she wanted to punch him, but also like she was used to this. She looked so exasperated.

Harry looked between the two, holding in the snort that threatened to come out. Neville suddenly started coughing. The three Hufflepuffs were smiling behind their hands, and even Cedric was grinning at them.

“Alright, well it’s almost time for the Halloween Feast. Grab your pumpkin and let’s head to the Great Hall.”

* * *

The great hall was normally lit with thousands of floating candles. That night, it was lit with hundreds floating pumpkins. They came with all kinds of faces, some of them with big toothy grins, some with carvings of pixies or trolls, and some, with dragons, flowers, snitches, devil’s snare, and stars.

The Halloween feast was magnificent. The house elves had made many more dishes than usual, and Harry, Theo, and Dorea were eating with gusto. The usually absent Dark Lord was in attendance tonight, sitting in the center seat and chatting with Bellatrix. Harry helped himself to slice of pumpkin pie.

“You’re supposed to have desert after your meal,” Theo teased.

“It’s so good!” Harry said, already taking a big bite.

“Really?” Theo said, abandoning his mashed potatoes and also taking a slice.

“Boys,” Dorea rolled her eyes. But she had a smile on her face.

The feast was in full swing when suddenly a loud crash was heard in the castle. The stone floor shook. A huge roar was heard, not too far away. Professor Jugson suddenly stood up from his seat at the head table. His silverware clattered to the floor, drawing the attention of everyone in the hall. His face turned pale.

Professor Grubbly-Plank also stood up. “That’s… the roar of a…” She became as white as sheet.

Scared screams rang out from some terrified kids.

Voldemort’s aura suddenly flared, enveloping the entire room. The air became so saturated with his magic that the entire hall felt silent. It felt difficult to breathe.

The roar happened again, and the sound stone hitting stone was heard. The floor shook from the shockwaves.

Harry, Theo, and Dorea were looking at each other with huge eyes. What could shake the castle and make a sound like that? Did professor Grubbly-Plank recognize the sound? 

The Dark Lord, however, was still looking at Professor Jugson.

Professor Jugson was losing all the colour in his face. “I felt one of my tra- creations just activate.”

“Where?”

“It’s the one from the Isle of Drear,” Professor Jugson stammered. He didn’t manage to say anything else, because he passed out in a dead faint.

Madame Promfrey quickly walked up and cast some spells.

“He’s just fainted from nerves. And he’s also magically exhausted. Will be alright after a good night’s rest.”

The Dark Lord’s aura flared, and they shivered as the air in the room chilled by a couple of degrees. His eyes returned to Professor Grubbly-Plank.

“It sound like a… Quintaped.” At the blank looks from the rest of the staff, she continued in a weak voice, “They’ve got five legs, hence the name. They’re carnivorous, with a particular taste for humans, have a degree of spell resistance… but they only exist on the Isle of Drear.”

She didn’t speak loudly, but her voice echoed in the silent hall. A few students screamed. Even the feel of heavy, dark magic could not silence their fear.

The Dark Lord stood and quickly began issuing orders. “All students are to follow the prefects in an orderly fashion back to their common rooms. Head of Houses, return to the common rooms to take role call, and remain there to guard. Other professors, those with combat experience follow me.”

The dark lord rose and swept out of the hall. Bellatrix, Professor Dolohov, and Professor Yaxley followed closely behind. Harry looked and realized, Snape, McGonagall, Flitwick, were the other combat ability. But they were told to guard the children. The Dark Lord really did care about their safety.

As the Slytherin prefects got everyone ready to go down, Harry looked at Hufflepuff and Professor Sprout. Except Hufflepuff, would they be alright? Then Harry thought about devil’s snare, and shivering, he decided he didn’t have to worry about Hufflepuff either.

All the Slytherin students followed Snape and the Slytherin prefects back towards the Slytherin common room. Once inside, each year of students sat in their own circle of armchairs, sitting silently. Professor Snape swept into the room and immediately began firing off role call. He started with the first years and began making his way up.

By this time, they could feel the castle shake a couple more times, and they knew it was from somewhere at the back of the castle. However, by the time Snape reached the third-years, they heard the sound of stone smashing in a spot still far away, but much closer to them.

“There are two of them!” An upper year student cried.

“Aren’t the wards supposed to keep out dangerous creatures?”

“How could this happen?”

“My father…”

“I’m too young to die…”

Panicked cries rang out among all the students, some girls bursting into tears.

“Silence!” Snape commanded. The room quieted again except for the soft crying of a terrified second year.

“No one is allowed to leave the dormitories or common room for any reason. _Anyone_ who disobeys this will be expelled, killed, or worse.” He glared at them, promising them a horrible death, and a few people shuddered. “Is that understood?”

Everyone nodded silently. Suddenly, they were glad they had such a sharp-tongued, competent Head of House. No one doubted his ability to take out an invading creature with either poison or spell work. The man was in the inner circle, after all.

“Prefects, keep an eye on everything.” So saying, he pulled out a sheath of papers and took a seat in the back of the room. The prefects in question got together in a group and discussed for a bit, before they decided on the best course of action. One of them came over to the first years.

“The the common rooms all have extra protections. We are perfectly safe here. Plus, the Dark Lord himself is here. The problem will be dealt with shortly. Really, you only have to wait. Please go to the dorms and use the lavatories as you would. he Samhain rites room is also still open. If anyone needs to conduct their rites, feel free to do so as well. And as you all know, the beds are already equipped with silencing charms, so if you are able, go to bed.”

Most people didn’t move. Even with silencing spells, who could fall asleep?

A few people got up and went to the rites room. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were among them.

"Too bad we can't have star gazing anymore," Dorea said grumpily. 

Theo and Harry nodded. They settled down in the common room, not quite feeling like sleeping, and started playing a game of gobblestones. 

“Hey, have you noticed?” Theo said suddenly, “Snape isn’t moving.”

Harry looked up. “He just went to the washroom. He’s back at marking.”

“No, it looks like he’s not moving.”

Harry stared at his potion’s professor. Harry stood up suddenly. 

“I’m going to the washroom,” Harry said.

“You just went?” Theo asked.

“I think I ate too much pie,” Harry said. “I gotta go again.”

Theo gave him a sympathetic look. 

Harry gripped his stomach, trying to make a pained face, and walked to their dorm, ducking into the washroom. There, he stepped into a stall and sat on the seat, making it look like he was going to the washroom in case anyone peeked below.

He pulled an old piece of parchment from his pocket. He then tapped his wand on it.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he whispered.

Lines suddenly appeared on the piece of parchment, like spiderwebs from a center. A map of the entire castle appeared. Footsteps marked with names were slower to appear. Four large blobs appeared, as all the students were in their common rooms. He quickly swept the map for others. The great hall was empty, maybe Madame Promfrey had removed Professor Jugson, Professor Sinstra was in Gryffindor Tower with Professor McGonagall, Professor Gamp and Professor Grubbly-Plank were in the Ravenclaw tower, it looked like the non-combat ready Professors also took shelter in the common rooms. It made sense, since they were more heavily warded.

Since everyone was mostly stationary in the castle, Harry immediately spotted a moving set of footsteps. Two footprints belonging to a Severus Snape was currently making his way along the third-floor corridor. Harry’s eyes widened. He almost dropped the parchment.

His eyes swipe to the right side of the parchment, where he sees the blurry bit that is the third-floor treasure keeping area. Snape headed directly for that area. Harry watched until he saw Snape enter the blurry area, his name disappearing into the unreadable blur.

Harry’s eyes immediately looked onto the grounds. He could see Bellatrix Lestrange and Antoin Dolohov, moving in a zig zag but still circular fashion, rotating around an area near the back of the castle. Harry imagined that they were fighting the Qintaped beast. Harry frowned. He knew the Dark Lord had gone out with them. There was a set of footsteps, Harry realized, near them. It was just that there was no name attached to them. And, the footsteps were very faint. If Harry wasn’t staring at the area, he wouldn’t notice the unnamed footsteps at all.

So, the map could not see Lord Voldemort easily. Harry wasn’t surprised. He decided was just going to sit there and watch his map, when suddenly the door in front of him rang with a few sharp knocks.

“Hey Harry,” Theo’s voice called. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh,” Harry said, immediately shoving the paper back into his pocket. He took some toilet paper so others could hear the sound, “a bit better.”

“Dorea says she’s going to bed, I’ll also be turning in soon,” he said.

“Sure,” Harry said. “I’ll be out in a bit.”

The footsteps went away. 

Harry quickly stood up, left the stall, and washed his hands. He was deep in thought.

Was it any business of his that Professor Snape was going places where he shouldn’t? Maybe Snape had a perfectly good reason for going there. Like, didn’t Snape help build one of the rooms in the spinning third-floor area? Maybe he was worried about his own room, and going to fix it.

But if Snape had a good reason to go, he could go fix his room any day. Why specifically when the castle was under attack? Why go when he had been ordered to guard the Slytherins?

Harry sucked in a breath.

Lord Voldemort had explicitly ordered Snape to guard the Slytherins. And Snape had gone against that order. Harry wasn’t too sure, but wasn’t that like a super bad thing to do? Probably punishable by… really bad things.

Harry headed back to the common room and stared at the Snape at the desk. The man had started marking again. But, from the map, Harry knew that it was an illusion.

Why would Snape want to go to the third-floor corridor now? Even at risk of being punished by the dark lord? Harry didn’t understand. And, all this thinking was hurting his head.

It wasn’t like he could do anything with this information. He had no evidence. He didn’t want anyone to know about the map. And he wouldn’t even know how to explain the Maurader’s map.

Harry sat bolt upright in his chair suddenly. He raced to his bed. Maybe he could ask Tom! He quickly fell into a meditative mindset, trying to calm his mind, so he could quickly fall asleep.

* * *

Harry fell asleep quickly, but he woke up in the room alone. The same fireplace, couch, and few trunks were right where he’d left them last night, but there was no Tom. The room was small enough that he could see everything at a glance.

Usually, if Tom wasn’t here, he would leave a note on the mantle of the fireplace. But the mantle was empty tonight.

His eyes landed on the golden door. Harry pushed against it. It didn’t budge.

Harry tried to trail his hands over the carvings on the door, hoping that the phoenix or basilisk would somehow come alive and open the door. But nothing happened. The carvings remained stationary.

Well, it was worth a try, Harry shrugged.

Harry pressed his ear against the golden door, trying to see if he could hear what was happening.

Nothing.

Harry sighed. _I guess this is a good thing. My occlumency teacher is a good occlumens._

Harry didn’t feel like practicing clearing his mind today. He often did, but today he was wound up by the attack on the castle. Professor Jugson had let the creatures in by accident? No wonder he fainted—he would be in a world of trouble when he awoke. This endangered the lives of all the children…

Suddenly, it clicked. Why Snape went to the third-floor. Harry shocked himself, yet again, with his deduction skills. He had to say, practicing occlumency made his skills of deduction top notch. He didn’t even need to ask Tom!

Harry wondered if he should tell Tom the next time he saw him. 

Should he tell an adult what Snape was doing?

No, that idea was shot down immediately. He had no proof. And again, he couldn’t explain the Maurader’s Map. He didn't want people to know about it either. 

He had to tell someone! He couldn’t keep this to himself. But, Theo and Dorea didn’t know that the Dark Lord was keeping something valuable in the third-floor corridor. Professor Jugson said that that was a secret that was only told to him and Draco cause they were heirs of the inner circle. So if Theo and Dorea didn’t know, he shouldn’t tell them. 

* * *

“Professor Snape is trying to steal what’s on the third-floor corridor!” Harry whisper-declared to Neville in the secret passage behind the one-eyed witch triumphantly.

Neville gaped at him. Harry waited patiently for Neville to get over his shock. 

“But, Professor Snape wouldn’t…” Neville started.

“I saw him!”

“…he’s worked on protecting it,” Neville countered hesitantly.

“All the better to steal it!” Harry declared.

“I don’t think anyone _can_ steal it,” Neville pointed out.

“Maybe impossible for us… but for a master potions master, what can’t his concoctions do? Brew fame, bottle glory? Plus, he’s a top dueller, and he is very strong magically.”

Neville gave him an uncertain look.

“Harry, you sorta look like you have an idea.”

“Yep.” Harry grinned.

“Do I want to know?” Neville said slowly. Harry grinned at his friend. 

Harry waited for dramatic effect.

“What do you say to getting Snape fired?”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We fast forward through November and reach the beginning of Christmas break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are you my lovlies? I'm alive! I remember laughing to myself when writing the Halloween chapter in September (what if I posted this on Halloween), and a week ago it WAS Halloween, and now I have the Christmas chapter - I won't wait till Christmas to post this. 
> 
> Disclaimer: The quidditch commentary is likely mostly taken directly from HP & philosopher's stone. It all belongs to JKR. Fair use and all that. 
> 
> Thank you to my darling beta, [Lady_Panthea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Panthea/pseuds/Lady_Panthea) for her supportive brainstorming sessions. And editing. And awesomeness. I don't know what I would do without her! <3

Gryffindors were supposed to be brave. They were supposed to be rash. When presented with an idea that could get them what they desired—a safer potions class—they were supposed to jump at it. Just why was Neville one of those exceptions?

Harry excitedly presented his plan.

“All we have to do is collect evidence of him stealing, and BAM! Bye bye, Snape… Hello, safe potions!”

Neville didn’t look too convinced.

“How would we get evidence?”

“…er… I haven’t thought of that yet. But your dad is the head of law enforcement, how does he collect evidence? For cases and stuff?”

“Um… I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

Harry wracked his brains. This was going to be harder than he thought. Luckily, he had connections.

* * *

Harry burst through the golden doors the moment he opened his eyes in the mindscape.

“Tom, Hogwarts was attacked by some monsters on Halloween!”

The teen ignored him, continuing to reading through a thick book on his desk. He was dressed in his usual rather nice looking black robes, and he sat with his back straight and fingers lightly touching the book as he read.

“Aren’t you worried about my safety?”

“You weren’t even anywhere near the monsters,” Tom replied dismissively. He flipped another page in his book.

“How would you know? I went to sleep, and your mind was completely closed from me!”

“How could monsters even get past the wards?” Tom asked.

“Something to do with Professor Jugson. I heard he is a famous space-bending wizard? Did some cool research on portkeys. Anyways, he was doing some weird experiment. Luckily, the Dark Lord dealt with them. I heard the monsters were really scary. Five-legged beasts that are resistant to magic, rated XXXXX.”

“Five X’s. That’s the most dangerous classification possible for magical creatures,” Tom remarked. “You were lucky the Dark Lord dealt with them.”

“Yeah, well, it’s Hogwarts,” Harry said. “But I think that it wasn’t an accident.”

Tom stopped and glanced at him. “Why would you think that?”

“I saw Snape going to the third-floor corridor during the attack!”

Tom blinked.

“And?”

“He’s trying to steal the thing the Dark Lord’s hiding. Obviously, he needed a distraction,” Harry shared his deductions proudly.

“Absurd.”

Harry crossed his arms. “Well, I definitely saw Snape go to the third floor.”

Tom stopped reading and looked at him. Yep, Harry was getting used to that glare by now. This was the one that seemed to say, ‘are-you-an-idiot-you-put-yourself-in-danger-by-leaving-the-common-room’.

“I was safe. I didn’t leave the common room. I have a map that can let me see where everyone in the castle is. He used some spell to put up an illusion of himself marking in a corner of the common room, then snuck up to the third-floor corridor.”

“A map?”

“Yeah, it’s awesome.”

“Hm.”

“So, I just need evidence. Can you help me? I want to collect evidence that Snape’s up to no good.”

Tom stared at him.

“What are you going to do with the evidence once you have it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you going to blackmail Snape?”

Harry’s eyes widened. He hadn’t thought of that. He just wanted to get the man fired since he was such an asshole to himself and Neville in potions. He had never considered keeping the evidence, and actually blackmailing the man.

“Um, I don’t think I will be able to? He’s kinda scary? What if he retaliates? It’s safer just to give the evidence to the Dark Lord and let him punish Snape.”

“The dark lord will not fire Snape for that.”

“What?” Harry said. Why wouldn’t the Dark Lord fired him? If he knew Snape was someone who broke his orders and was secretly trying to steal his treasure, wouldn’t he punish him? Tom elaborated.

“He could kill him.”

Harry’s eyes widened. 

“Or, he may keep him in his post, and give him other punishment. There is no guarantee that he will lose the job of potions master, especially since Hogwarts does not have a replacement.”

“You mean…”

“You overestimate yourself if you want to use the Dark Lord as a tool to accomplish your schemes.”

Harry frowned. “I’m not using him… I’m helping him… I mean, who’s side are you on?”

“Fine. If you really want to, I know a spell to make portraits record activities.”

That was more like it! Tom always had his back. Guardian angels were the best.

“Can you teach me it?”

“Can you clear your mind?”

And so, Harry realized that he had been blackmailed into making progress on occlumency before he could start collecting evidence on Snape.

* * *

As they entered November, the winds turned icy and everyone bundled in an extra cloak when walking through the castle. The mountains around the school became icy and the lake like flat steel.

The quidditch season had begun. The pitch was decorated in festive colours. On the day of the first quidditch match of the year, all the seats filled to the brim. Loud crowds of gold and red sat on one side of the pitch, while the other was covered in silver and green.

“GO SLYTHERIN!” Theo shouted happily.

“WOOO!” Dorea yelled.

“GOO SLYTHERIN!”

Harry laughed with his two friends. He could barely hear his own thoughts. In this short time that they were allowed to make as much noise as they wanted, everyone made as much noise as they could.

The three of them held up a poster they made, of a beautiful silver and green snake coiling in the air, baring its fangs. Parvati was a great artist, and they had asked an upper year to charm it. Beside them, Parvati and Millicent held up their poster of a green snake eating a lion. Instead of scales, the snake was made with glitter, so it shone in the morning light.

Silver hair glinted in the morning sun as Madame Hooch walked out into the pitch. She stood in the middle as two teams came out and began shaking hands. Harry saw Ron Weasley looked rather pale. One of the twins gave him a supportive clap on the back. Other than the three Weasleys, they had three female chasers, and their captain was the Keeper. Harry couldn’t see them clearly this far away.

On the Slytherin team, they didn’t have a single female. In any case, everyone on the Slytherin team were as big as mountains. Harry wondered how they would be able to fly. The Slytherin Captain was the biggest of them all, Marcus Flint, a fifth year.

Madame Hooch looked like she was speaking to them. After a few moments, all the players mounted their brooms.

Madame Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

“IT’S STARTED!” Theo yelled.

“GOOOOO SLYTHERIN!!!!”

Loud shouts and yells echoed around him, and Harry joined in. A loud voice was heard in every corner of the pitch.

“And the quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor—what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too—”

“JORDAN!”

“Sorry, Professor.”

A Gryffindor, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

“She’s really moving along there, dodged Flint, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a real fast flier—back to Johnson and she’s—no, the Slytherins have taken the quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint has a nice speed there, nice dodge around a bulger sent by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which. He’s going to sco—no, stopped by a nice move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood. Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor in possession. She does a lovely dive around Adrian Pucey, it’s an open field- OUCH-that’s got to hurt- hit in the stomach by a bulger, now Pucey in possession. Pucey doges Johnson, gets clipped by a bulger, but he’s recovered quickly and still in possession. The goalposts are ahead—come on now, Wood—Keeper Wood dives—misses—SLYTHERIN SCORES!”

Slytherin cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Gryffindors. Harry watched the match with interest. He loved quidditch. He quickly saw that the Slytherins were the better team. Without fail, the Slytherin team was soon 100 points ahead. The score was 170- 70.

“Wait- is that the snitch?” Lee Jordan yelled.

Harry caught sight of it too. It was fluttering just behind the Slytherin Seeker’s ear. The man turned, catching sight of it. The Gryffindor seeker, the youngest Weasley, also caught sight of it. He shot at the seeker in a blur. The two of them were neck in neck as they flew, but Harry could tell the younger boy was gaining—his body was more aerodynamic and his hand stretched forward—they were going to crash.

BAM

The Slytherin seeker flattened into the pitch while Weasley rolled at the last second to throw himself tumbling down. The roll helped lessen the impact as he landed on his hands and knees and he began throwing up.

“Oh gross!” Dorea exclaimed.

“Did they catch the snitch?” Theo said.

Healers were removing the Slytherin seeker, and Ronald Weasley was starting to recover. He reached his hand into the vomit and pulled something out.

“Oh no,” Dorea said.

“IS THAT THE SNITCH?” Lee Jordan exclaimed. “GRYFFINDOR WINS 220-170!”

“He didn’t catch it! He swallowed it!” Zabini was still whining an hour later.

The long awaited quidditch match had ended too quickly, and now it was time to continue studying. Harry tuned the boy out as he began next week’s charms essay. With his diligence, he was now top 5 in all his classes, and he wanted to improve on that score. Dorea and Theo settled down and began working on homework as well. The rowdy post-quidditch crowd soon dispersed in the Slytherin Common Room.

* * *

November passed quickly at Hogwarts. While Christmas Break seemed like it was approaching soon, piles of assignments awaited them before the new year. Harry found himself spending many evenings at the library just to finish his work. The thought of convicting Snape was put on hold as he had more pressing matters—like acing his classes—to focus on.

“Harry, can you help me with this bit in the reading? I don’t understand.” Dorea asked. They were working on their theory of magic essay. It was on the topic of “which matter is best, and why?”

“Sure, what’s up?” Harry said.

“What’s the difference between real mass and conjured mass and vanished mass and time mass and space mass? Aren’t they all real mass?” Dorea asked.

“Yeah, Harry. I was confused about that too,” Theo said.

“Real mass exists without magic. Like, muggle stuff.”

“Conjured mass is matter that was created by magic. Vanished mass is matter that is vanished by magic.”

“Come again?” 

“Space mass is how much matter takes up in space, and time mass is how much matter takes up in time. Conjured mass still feels real and behaves exactly like real mass. It has similar space mass but it has less time mass.”

“You lost me.”

“If you measure the time a conjured matter has existed, it would be less than the same real matter, right?”

“But it makes no difference in real life. Why does this distinction even matter?”

“It matters in higher level arithmancy. If you were going to create portkeys or even portals, getting matter from one place to another has to take into account its amount of space mass and time mass, otherwise, what if you try to move this conjured matter before it’s even been conjured?”

“I would just always move ONLY real matter!” Dorea exclaimed.

Harry smiled. “Yeah! That’s what the international association on travel and space exploration recommends.”

“Then I’m definitely picking it as the best type of matter! Thanks Harry!” Dorea smiled and began writing.

* * *

December came with harsh winds and icy snow. Christmas trees were placed all over the castle. As the winter holidays approached, Slytherins began bragging about what parties they were going to and which gala they were attending. Harry just wanted to go home. Hopefully to their large mansion in Germany where he could fly as much as he wanted, and go sledding, and roast marshmallows supplied by Kreacher.

This term had been exhausting, and he was looking forward to going home. After Harry got through a slew of exams, assignments, and people saying goodbye, the Hogwarts Express was waiting for him. When he got off the train, familiar faces were waiting for him. Not wanting to stay in the crowded station, they apparated home. 

“Sirius! Regulus!” Harry laughed, launching himself at his father and godfather.

“Hey kiddo,” Sirius said, picking him up and spinning him around. “You’ve gotten lighter. Do they not feed you at that school?”

“Nonsense, I have enough to eat. It’s just the cooking isn’t as good as Kreacher’s.”

The house elf in question squealed in delight and ran from the room.

“Well that’s one way to get rid of him,” Sirius grinned.

“You and that elf, Sirius…” Regulus said in a long-suffering tone. Sirius just grinned.

Though they had a formal dinning room, it was huge and had a long table. They usually only used that room for guests. When it was just the three of them, they preferred the dinning table in the kitchen. Harry sat between the two brothers and tried not to drool. There were so many of his favourite dishes, and he hadn’t eaten since they got on the train in the morning. The moment their forks were raised, he began digging into the feast.

“I hear you’re doing well in your classes,” Regulus said.

“Yep. I struggled at first, but now I get straight Outstandings on my assignments,” Harry grinned.

“Guess you inherited Regulus’s brains,” Sirius groused, good naturedly. “Thank goodness.”

“How is Slytherin treating you?”

“Good.” Harry said with some difficulty around a mouthful of food. He swallowed before continuing. “Theo, Theodore Nott, and Dorea Rosier are really nice. Dorea is very funny. Theo is sweet. I also hang out with Neville.”

“Anything else interesting?”

“The classes are so good! Our professors teach really well. Each of them are very good at their field and explain things well-“

Regulus smiled. “Of course. The Dark Lord selects them himself.”

“He does?”

“He’s _headmaster_.”

“Oh. Well. I guess that does explain everything.”

“Though Bellatrix recommended Yaxley for a History of Magic,” Regulus smiled.

“He’s a bit boring, but he’s alright.”

“What? They got rid of Binns?” Sirius suddenly interrupted.

Harry looked confused.

“Yes, we had him exorcised like he was supposed to be about ten _years_ ago.” Regulus said.

A huge grin overtook Sirius’s features. “Good riddance.”

“What’s a bin?”

“ An old professor who was a ghost.” Sirius explained, to Harry. “Droned on about goblin wars… It’s better you don’t know.”

* * *

“Regulus?”

“Hmm? Harry?”

“Do you remember you said you’d teach me about dementors this Yule?”

“Yeah, give me a few days, okay? Let’s have Christmas with a carefree mind before I go into that, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

“Good kid,” Regulus said, patting Harry’s head.

* * *

“Lesson time, kiddo!” 

“Sirius?”

“So, I was going to check out this hot nurse at St. Mungos, but she…”

“She turned you down, didn’t she.”

“Ok, that’s not the point. The point is, another _nicer_ mediwitch offered me free CPR lessons! It’s a new spell from Germany! Got the idea from the muggle thing. And I think it’s a vital skill to teach people. Look, I’m even certified to teach it!” Sirius waved a card happily through the air.

Harry laughed.

“It’s not fair for you to only have lessons with Regulus, kiddo. So now you have… lessons with Sirius!”

“A Sirius lesson, I hope,” Harry grinned.

“Always a serious lesson with Sirius,” his godfather agreed.

* * *

**Yuletide, Black Manor in Germany**

Sirius chased Bellatrix around and around the giant Christmas tree that stood on the grounds of the Black Manor in Germany. Lights from their wands flew left and right.

“Can’t catch me!” Sirius yelled.

“Get back here you coward!” Bellatrix yelled. She took a few steps forward until she was in range of her cousin. Under her barrage of lights, a blue spell hit Sirius in the bum. Nothing happened immediately. Then, his feet turned into goo. Sirius, to his credit, didn’t even frown. He sent back a quick spell that painted Bellatrix’s face bright Gryffindor colours, it complimented her hair which was now a red afro.

“SIRIUS BLACK!” She roared.

Her moment of disorientation was enough for him to transfigure his feet back, and he clopped away. Wait. He’d transfigured them into hooves.

“Haw haw!” Sirius yelled.

Harry hadn’t laughed this hard in ages. A furious Bellatrix chased a galloping Sirius across the expansive lawn. Neville was torn between worry and amusement. Eventually, the amusement won over and the boy ended up with tears streaming down his cheeks as he laughed.

An enraged Bellatrix, still sporting her Gryffindor colours chased after Sirius. She’d hit him with a spell that turned anything he said into donkey brays, so the air was filled with female screeches and braying. Despite this, his transfigured hooves were quick on the icy ground, and he galloped all over the backyard.

Nearby, Rodolphus and Regulus shared a drink. They sat on the back terrace, enjoying the view.

“I hope they tire each other out,” Rodolphus said as he tilted the glass of scotch in his hand, taking a sip.

Regulus threw his head back and laughed. “I’ll drink to that.”

Regulus raised his glass of scotch to Rodolphus before taking a sip. They each drank silently, relaxing in the moment. The soft lights strung up along the terrace illuminated everything beautifully. Regulus was starting to get lost in thought, but he was suddenly pulled out of his mind by the sound of Rodolphus’ voice. 

“I know why I live with Bella,” Rodolphus said. “I loved her from the moment I saw her.”

“You’ve already had that much to drink?” Regulus asked jokingly. It wasn’t like his friend to get sentimental.

Rodolphus held up a hand. “But why do you still live with Sirius? While _he_ might not be able to marry since he’s a convicted traitor… you? You’re one of the most eligible bachelors in the country.”

Regulus poured himself another drink. “I don’t have the time. Plus, I have fulfilled my duty to produce an heir. I have Harry.”

Rodolphus frowned. “There’s more the marriage than producing heirs. You’ve never even considered-“

“Who would I marry?” Regulus interrupted. “Who’s left in our generation? The Weasley widow?”

There were glaringly few witches left from their generation.

“What bastards, the lot of them, Weasleys,” Rodolphus growled. “The Dark Lord was beyond merciful, granting their entire family a pardon.” He hiccupped. Regulus remembered how he and Sirius had worked hard to save the Weasleys. The young couple had not fought on the frontlines, so it was possible after a little maneuvering. The pair had been spared, and they had wasted no time in having seven children. “Then, two years ago, they catch Arthur Weasley smuggling information over to Dumbledore.”

“Is that what he was convicted of?” Regulus asked. 

“Yeah,” Rodolphus replied. “Sneaky too. By an untraceable mirror.”

“Hmm. Yes, sneaky.”

Rodolphus nodded. “I know Molly Weasley tested innocent under veritaserum, but I don’t believe she was oblivious to what her husband had been doing.”

“And you wanted me to marry the woman,” he joked.

Rodolphus’s eyes widened comically. “No! No- not-“

“I’m joking,” Regulus said.

“I know there isn’t anyone from our generation, but there are plenty of young witches. It’s perfectly acceptable for an experienced, powerful wizard to take a younger wife. It would be adored, even!”

Regulus shook his head.

“Now see here, Bella does random inspections of the girls dormitories. Do you know what she finds? Do you know how many young girls have crushes on you? The amount of magazines with-“

“Do not finish that sentence,” Regulus said.

Rodolphus grinned. “They think you’re the bee’s knees.”

Regulus shook his head. They had had too much to drink.

“Think about it, at least.”

“You don’t understand young girls, Rodolphus. They might have magazines filled with the Dark Lord and swoon and sigh, but if the Dark Lord ever asked them out, they would run faster than… than… Sirius as a donkey.”

Rodolphus looked up at that point and saw Sirius had successfully been turned into the animal. However, he was somehow faster as a donkey, and was still doing a great job of evading Bellatrix’s attacks.

Rodolphus couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. Then Regulus’s words registered. “How do you know that the Dark Lord is the other man in those magazines?”

Regulus stared at him.

“You’re in charge of the press—did you- make them?”

“No!” Regulus almost spat out his drink.

Rodolphus frowned. “Then do you like reading-“

“Sirius gave me the collection as a Christmas present!” Regulus shouted.

“Oh.”

Both of them sat in stunned silence, watching as the Gryffindor coloured lady finally caught the donkey. Their chortling heirs walked over, handing the wands back to their respective owners.


	17. A True Malfoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it turns out staring at a chapter for a few months doesn't make it longer. I'm so sorry this took so long! I will absolutely update more. I just want to say that if anyone is thinking of starting long fanfics, don't do it. The amount of planning it takes to write it!!! You have to commit. And also annoy your friends like, Lady_Panthea, until they help you work out the logic of certain plot points (<3). 
> 
> That said, I've planned so much. SO MUCH. Very excited for you to read it.  
> (Don't do it.) 
> 
> Again, I'm so sorry for the long wait. Thank you to everyone still commenting, they are really motivating when I'm stuck. <3 You are all so lovely. I am very lucky to have you guys.

**Yuletide Holidays, Malfoy Manor**

“Father? You wished to speak to me.” Draco walked into his father’s study, wondering why he wanted to meet here instead of their comfortable sitting room.

“Welcome home, Dragon,” Lucius said, his face showing a rare softness reserved for him.

Draco, in turn, gave him a soft smile. “Father,” Draco greeted.

“Please have a seat.” Draco did easily. His father eventually started speaking. “You are still very young. It’s your first year at Hogwarts. How are you getting along?”

“I’m top of almost every class. I am forming connections with all of the other pureblood children.”

“I have something I wish to tell you.”

“Yes, father?”

“You know our Lord does not have children.” The man then paused, as if searching for words.

Draco waited. Lucius seemed excited, and he knew for a fact that his father hadn’t been excited over anything since Magical Britain was recognized as an official ruling government by the ICW.

“I have a source that tells me our Lord will declare an heir,” Lucius admitted.

“What? When? Who? Why?” Questions poured out in Draco’s shock. Why would he name an heir? He did not seem like the type to retire. 

“The Light are getting stronger.” His father explained. “They are acting both politically, through the stupid International Confederation of Wizards, and in physical attacks against Noble and Most Ancient Houses.” Lucius stopped and cast three more privacy spells, though Draco knew for a fact his father had already placed extra spells in addition to their own Manor Wards. “I have suspected, from my own observations and what information I can gather as the dark lord’s most trusted, that these attacks are targeting the Dark Lord’s method of immortality.”

Draco’s mouth dropped open.

“I cannot tell you more than that, and the Dark Lord’s method is something I will never say,” Lucius continued grimly. “But the Dark Lord now has reason to consider an heir.”

“The dark lord’s method of immortality.” Draco said, dumbfounded. “You know what it is.”

His father looked at him. “If you were to find out, even I would have difficulty protecting you.”

Draco shivered. “I wont’ ask.”

“The dark lord may have reason to select an heir. And the only logical choice would be the heir of a Noble and Most Ancient house. I would say that someone who’s in the inner circle is ideal. Perhaps one of their children so they can still be taught and moulded.”

“Of course it has to be a pureblood.” Draco said. “But why does it have to be someone young?”

“It doesn’t, but I have noticed how the Dark Lord has been looking at books and questioning people about how to… educate. Some think it’s for his duties as Headmaster, but I know the Dark Lord better than most. He likely has someone, a student, in mind.”

“What. The. Hell.” Draco breathed.

“If the Dark Lord is choosing an heir, it has to be you.”

“What?” Draco yelled, his voice going up several octaves. “No way! That’s not possible.”

“It is not only possible, it is the most probable conclusion! If you pay attention as I have, and know the dark lord as I have…”

“I trust you, father, you know that. But…”

“I will keep an eye on the situation. Just do as you are doing and leave the rest to me.” Lucius tapped his cane against the table lightly to highlight his words. “I will pave the way for you,” he promised.

Draco was completely out of words to say.

“Rest reassured. I have studied your generation. The only competition is Harry Potter-Black and Neville Longbottom-Lestrange.”

“Father-”

“But there is no chance for Harry. For all his name includes two Noble and Most Ancient Houses, he is a half-blood. Also, the Lestrange boy is weak and stupid. The Dark Lord would never choose them.”

“I don’t want to be some heir for the Dark Lord. I want to be _your_ heir.” Draco stuck out his chin. “I am a Malfoy.”

“Are you a slytherin or not?” Lucius said. “Even if the Dark Lord has not decided on you, you must _make_ him decide on you. _That_ , is what a true Malfoy would do.”

Draco bowed his head.

“I shall endeavour to make you proud, father.”

“Good.”

~*~

Harry whooped as he flew through the skies above the forests of the Black Manor lands below. While the manor only sat on one acre of land, the actual land extended further, for another forty acres. Harry flew leisurely, enjoying the fresh air and the freedom of flight. He always took a different path through the forests, and today was no different.

Suddenly, a flash of flame caught his eye.

Fire?

Harry worried about a forest fire, but then realized that it was the dead of winter. That wasn’t likely. Also, it couldn’t be an intruder, because as a Black, he was keyed into the wards. They still stood strong. He also got no warning of an intruder. Maybe it was Sirius setting up a campfire or something? They had talked about roasting smores a few days ago, maybe the man wanted to surprise him today.

Harry turned his broom to fly in that direction.

Suddenly, a high-pitched cry reverberated in his mind, like that of an opera singer singing the highest note. It hurt him so much that he screwed his eyes shut and clapped his hands around his ears. It was purely instinct. Luckily, Harry was familiar with directing his broom with his legs. His broomstick stopped moving forwards and began slowly drifting down.

Anyone else that had been caught so unawares was at great risk of plummeting to his death.

He was scared, because his manor was supposed to be safe. Nothing here was supposed to harm him. Something was wrong.

He didn’t have the chance to do anything before he felt something soft brush against his face. Something was behind him! But he couldn’t turn his broom with his knees, and the intruder was too quick. His entire body was consumed by a ball of fire.

When the fire finished burning, Harry had disappeared.

~*~

Harry felt like he was being burned alive, yet it did not hurt. Instead, the flames consumed him and tingled his body while it did. It was surprisingly a pleasant sensation. Harry would have found it enjoyable, at least, if his head didn’t feel like it was going to split open.

The fire burned, and it felt like it was trying to burn away something in his mind. He could feel his mind resisting. He felt like his head was in the worst pain he had ever experience. Suddenly, something slammed shut. Like someone had slammed the lid closed on a tin in his brain, and the pain stopped.

Shaking, Harry opened his eyes.

He panted and the air in front of him fogged up.

He was in a graveyard. It was well cared for by magic, as he could see that any dust and debris had long been swept away by cleaning charms. Fresh magical flowers were placed in front of some graves, some still waving in the wind, or singing a little tune.

He stood on the outskirts of the graveyard, in the middle of a stone path.

I am not in Germany anymore. Harry thought. Someone broke through the Black wards and kidnapped me. I have to get back.

There was nothing for it. Harry followed the path.

There was nothing but rows of tombstones on either side. The fence around the graveyard, while not a very tall stone wall, was taller than his average height at eleven years old. He grew more and more nervous as he walked. As he does, Harry absently read all the graves he passed by. He felt like some of the names on the tombstones were vaguely familiar to him. He stopped at two tombstones.

_Alice and Frank Longbottom_

His throat felt dry.

Harry kept walking. A bit further, he saw there were two tombstones that recently had fresh flowers place in front of them.

_James and Lily Potter_

Harry stopped in front of that one. Complicated emotions flashed through him. He didn’t remember his birth parents. He was okay with it too; Regulus and Sirius were great parents. He knew that James was a quidditch prodigy, and Lily was a talented muggleborn. They had both fought for the side of the Light and lost their lives.

Harry thought that his birth parents had been dumb. They were barely out of Hogwarts, just married, with a baby on the way. That was not the time to get yourself indoctrinated into a fighting role in the wizarding war. Sure, Harry thought muggleborns as individuals could be just as talented as purebloods, but they were a huge risk of breaking the Statue of Secrecy. Plus, when Harry heard that they only joined the wizarding world at eleven, they lacked any basic understanding of the values and customs of wizarding society. Harry fully supported the dark lord’s policy of removing magical children from their families and then blood adopting them.

Magical children were scarce, and many families were at risk of dying out because they could not produce heirs. The blood adoption ritual meant that they would become genetically similar to a child you produced. They would still have their birth parents DNA, but also take on your DNA. The flaw in the ritual was, of course, that it could only be done in children young enough. Only then would their DNA be malleable. Past about the age of six, children’s DNA were almost set; and would reject the ritual.

While his birth parents were not the parents he’d come to love, they still gave birth to him, and they tried their best. He would be respectful. As he knelt down, he noticed a parcel left on the tombstone. It had a small tag on it, like a Christmas present. The writing was in a pretty dark green ink, written in spider cursive that was unfamiliar to him.

_For Harry_

It read.

Harry stared at it. He was a little excited about getting a present, but this entire teleportation thing was a bit scary. He looked around him. The graveyard seemed deserted except for him. Yet he couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched.

Deciding that if his kidnappers wanted to do something to him, they would have already, Harry reached forward and prodded the package with his wand. When nothing happened, he cast the one diagnostic charm he knew. It turned out negative. Then, he reached out a hand and opened the package.

A silvery, silky cloak spilled out. Unlike other fancy silk clothing, this one seemed to shimmer in the afternoon light.

“It was your father’s.”

Harry whipped around at the voice. His mouth dropped open.

An old man with a long white beard stood in front of him. His blue eyes twinkled, a kind smile on his face. A phoenix perched on his shoulder.

“You—” 

“Merry Christmas, my boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AD: Merry Christmas.  
> HP: You're Santa Claus!  
> AD: ...my boy?  
> HP: Sirius told me you were fake, but I knew you were a wizard!  
> ...  
> HP: Thanks for the gift. This must mean I'm a good boy!  
> HP: I did work very hard in school this year! :D


End file.
